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. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley.
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