So I packed up and came to London next day. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. ‘Then we will beg. Some foul murder has been committed. " He had now gained the high road. 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. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. ‘Very well, arrest me.
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