rests the codex with her thumb to mark the page (it might be important for it to look the same when the study resumes).
I will be all right soon. I think we were doing well, Signore. We ought to continue.
No, we will stop. There is a burden weighing upon you, Laura Agnelli. Why not tell me what it is, and I shall see if I can help?
Laura mutely shakes her head, makes a brief and artificial smile.
It is why you want to see Giovanna, you want to confide something in her, I think. Regrettably she is away for several days. Whateverit is, can it wait for so long? To me, it seems not. To me, it seems you are suffering now.
It is unimportant.
Is someone hurting you? Are you in trouble? To confessor, doctor, and lawyer, do not hide the truth.
Laura wrings the folds of the fabric with her free hand but does not, now, avoid his gaze. Which are you being, Signore?
Whichever you are most in need of. Just a friend, if it pleases you. I thought we had become friends today, you and I?
We have. We have.
Then tell me what ails you. Tell your babbo.
Laura’s reply is a whisper. I am in despair, Maestro Simone. I have been robbed.
Who has stolen from you? What have you lost?
I have been seeing a man outside the hospital, and now I am sure I am with child.
There is a flicker of astonishment in the artist’s face, and a glimmer in his eye like the breaking of day, which fades as his features rearrange themselves into the mask of deep thought. Then your demeanor and your recent disappearance are finally accounted for. What can you tell me of your young man?
Laura fixes her suspicious stare on him. Why? What are you going to do?
Nothing. Not anything. Not one thing, without your express wish: you have my word.
At this, she relents. His name is Bartolomeo Pavoni. He is a citizen of Siena, I think. I had not considered marriage until I met him and he began paying me attention. He was very charming at first.
Yes. I see. Now I must be indelicate for a moment and ask a necessary question: are you absolutely certain that what you and this Pavoni did together can cause pregnancy? Because if you just held hands or merely kissed and touched each other—
Laura cuts across this speech. Yes, she knows what took place is the thing that causes pregnancy.
I had to make sure. Can you tell me the way this occurred?
We had a special place only we two knew about—
No, not that. I wish to be clear about whether or not this person physically harmed you. Did he force you?
Once again, Laura looks ill and for a minute is tongue-tied. He said he loved me. He made promises. He said I was too good for a convent, and he wanted me for his wife. I tried to reason with him, to put him off, but he was eager and impatient with me.
Was he cruel to you . . . ?
Laura covers her mouth, then composes herself. He was persistent, and I was deceived. He was kinder afterward and assured me no one would find out.
And no doubt he seemed mature to you. Did you see him again? Does he know about the pregnancy?
I did not wish to see him. I wished to break it off. I intended to do my penance and, God willing, to go to Santa Marta as I originally hoped. When I realized, I sought him out and told him. I said I accepted, I said I wanted to get married and to raise our child together. I thought he would be pleased because he had asked me often enough, but he just stopped coming. At first I thought he needed to get used to the idea, but I have since heard he has gone to Ravenna and I think it might be true because it is a city he talked about, and I have searched everywhere else I can think of. In my heart I acknowledge he does not want to be found, but I do not know what to do without him.
Do you love this fellow?
You will think badly of me if I say it was his honeyed words that affected me most, the thought that someone cared for me and found me desirable. I have lost the life I might have had for that. (Laura’s voice cracks.) I have been trying to think precisely
I will be all right soon. I think we were doing well, Signore. We ought to continue.
No, we will stop. There is a burden weighing upon you, Laura Agnelli. Why not tell me what it is, and I shall see if I can help?
Laura mutely shakes her head, makes a brief and artificial smile.
It is why you want to see Giovanna, you want to confide something in her, I think. Regrettably she is away for several days. Whateverit is, can it wait for so long? To me, it seems not. To me, it seems you are suffering now.
It is unimportant.
Is someone hurting you? Are you in trouble? To confessor, doctor, and lawyer, do not hide the truth.
Laura wrings the folds of the fabric with her free hand but does not, now, avoid his gaze. Which are you being, Signore?
Whichever you are most in need of. Just a friend, if it pleases you. I thought we had become friends today, you and I?
We have. We have.
Then tell me what ails you. Tell your babbo.
Laura’s reply is a whisper. I am in despair, Maestro Simone. I have been robbed.
Who has stolen from you? What have you lost?
I have been seeing a man outside the hospital, and now I am sure I am with child.
There is a flicker of astonishment in the artist’s face, and a glimmer in his eye like the breaking of day, which fades as his features rearrange themselves into the mask of deep thought. Then your demeanor and your recent disappearance are finally accounted for. What can you tell me of your young man?
Laura fixes her suspicious stare on him. Why? What are you going to do?
Nothing. Not anything. Not one thing, without your express wish: you have my word.
At this, she relents. His name is Bartolomeo Pavoni. He is a citizen of Siena, I think. I had not considered marriage until I met him and he began paying me attention. He was very charming at first.
Yes. I see. Now I must be indelicate for a moment and ask a necessary question: are you absolutely certain that what you and this Pavoni did together can cause pregnancy? Because if you just held hands or merely kissed and touched each other—
Laura cuts across this speech. Yes, she knows what took place is the thing that causes pregnancy.
I had to make sure. Can you tell me the way this occurred?
We had a special place only we two knew about—
No, not that. I wish to be clear about whether or not this person physically harmed you. Did he force you?
Once again, Laura looks ill and for a minute is tongue-tied. He said he loved me. He made promises. He said I was too good for a convent, and he wanted me for his wife. I tried to reason with him, to put him off, but he was eager and impatient with me.
Was he cruel to you . . . ?
Laura covers her mouth, then composes herself. He was persistent, and I was deceived. He was kinder afterward and assured me no one would find out.
And no doubt he seemed mature to you. Did you see him again? Does he know about the pregnancy?
I did not wish to see him. I wished to break it off. I intended to do my penance and, God willing, to go to Santa Marta as I originally hoped. When I realized, I sought him out and told him. I said I accepted, I said I wanted to get married and to raise our child together. I thought he would be pleased because he had asked me often enough, but he just stopped coming. At first I thought he needed to get used to the idea, but I have since heard he has gone to Ravenna and I think it might be true because it is a city he talked about, and I have searched everywhere else I can think of. In my heart I acknowledge he does not want to be found, but I do not know what to do without him.
Do you love this fellow?
You will think badly of me if I say it was his honeyed words that affected me most, the thought that someone cared for me and found me desirable. I have lost the life I might have had for that. (Laura’s voice cracks.) I have been trying to think precisely
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