"Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. The young lady I was with is not married at all. Do help me, Lady Ferringhall. 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. . Even this man-hunting machine was willing to grant the boy his honeymoon. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert.
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