‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. ‘We don’t know who she is. See what crime does, Sir. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. 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 paused. “Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth talking about.
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