” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. “No thanks, Cathy.
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