Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. 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. You must let me do whatever I can for you. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. ” Lucy said, frowning. Will you take your old place by Miss Ellicot.
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