"I'm armed; you are not. 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. She could think of nothing more to say. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. The militia were in already. I get the worst headaches. "A doctor at once!" cried Ruth excitedly. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. "Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head.
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