Let—it—fall. " "Oh. ’ ‘I presume you were not with her in France?’ Kimble stared. " She departed reluctantly. It’s gone. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. 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 intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much.
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