He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. 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. Nothing seemed to be amiss. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring.
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