As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. I want to fill it with fine and precious things. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. 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.
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