‘You are wise, Marthe. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. "But you said you weren't particular.
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