“I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. 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. Then he stood up and repeated it again. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. "Alone?" "Not exactly, Sir.
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