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. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. ' Will that do?" "It will," replied Trenchard. “Act three.
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