She shook her head. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. 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. I suppose my creed is, ‘I believe rather indistinctly in God the Father Almighty, substratum of the evolutionary process, and, in a vein of vague sentimentality that doesn’t give a datum for anything at all, in Jesus Christ, His Son. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief.
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