You’ve got me. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. She fled. 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. She answered him almost coldly. . “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet.
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