Most important, Dr. Luzzatto pronounced her health, and that of the developing child, excellent. And it was his opinion, from the way she was carrying the baby, that it was indeed a boy.

There were only two things to mar his happiness. First-and this was something that Dr. Luzzatto had warned him about more than once-he worried that there would be a problem later, when it was time for her to turn the child over to Stefania and him. The hormones that flowed through a new mother’s body, Luzzatto had said, often exerted a power that no man could understand. Emma was likely to experience depression, even despair, when the baby was taken from her. Domenico should prepare himself for it. It was natural and expectable, and there was nothing to be done about it. Given time, it would pass. Still, it hurt him to think of her unhappiness to come.

The other worm in the apple was a thing he learned from Caterina, the live-in servant he’d hired to look after Emma. Emma had become friends with the young laundress who came once a week to bring the washed and pressed linens and to take away the dirty ones. This Gia, according to Caterina, was a sluttish, independent creature with loose morals and brutish manners. At first the friendship between two women of such different classes had been inexplicable, but then one day Caterina had heard them whispering and giggling about pregnancy and childbirth. Gia was also pregnant, and there lay the source of their closeness. But-and here the housekeeper lowered her voice to a whisper-Gia could not even say for sure who the father was. The dreadful girl spoke laughingly-laughingly!-of giving the child up for adoption if there was money to be made from it. Even in jest, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t natural. Caterina wrung her hands beneath her apron. This Gia was not a fit companion for a woman of Emma’s class.