" "To be sure! Nothing entertains me so much. "But be prudent, my angel. Even in her hatred, she began to realize that Sebastian’s intelligence was much greater than Gianfrancesco’s. “Did it seem like I was in pain to you?” She smirked. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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