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. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys. Cahill gave me a hall pass. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it.
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