‘You mean, you asked Jorge to spy on her?’

‘If you wish to put it like that, then yes. However, I was only trying to protect you, my dear son, and you must accept my motives are well intentioned. There was something that had been worrying me since the start of your marriage.’

‘And what was that?’

‘I . . .’ Luiza had the grace to blush. ‘Obviously I’m your mother and I wished to make sure your wedding-night coupling had been successful. I asked the chambermaid at the Copacabana Palace to tell me if it had.’

‘You did what?’ Gustavo was on his feet and walking around the table towards his mother, fury in his eyes.

‘Please, Gustavo!’ Luiza put up her arms to protect herself. ‘Your wife had just been away to Paris for many months. I felt it my duty to make sure that she was still . . . pure. The chambermaid informed me that there was no sign of a bloodstain on the sheets or the counterpane.’

‘You bribed a maid for information about my wife’s purity?’ Gustavo shook his head, trying to maintain his anger with his mother, but at the same time knowing she spoke the truth about their wedding night.

‘Well,’ Luiza eyed him, ‘were the sheets stained?’

‘How dare you ask me that!’ Gustavo rallied. ‘It is a private matter between me and my wife!’

‘I take it they weren’t,’ said Luiza, almost contentedly. ‘So, Gustavo, do you want me to continue? I can see how agitated you are becoming. We can leave the subject there, if you wish.’

‘No, Mãe, you’ve gone too far for that. And I’m sure you are desperate to tell me who it is Izabela has been meeting in secret.’

‘I can assure you that it gives me no pleasure at all to tell you’ – the triumphant expression in Luiza’s eyes suggested the opposite – ‘but the . . . “person” in question is someone we all know.’

Gustavo racked his brains to come up with a name before his mother could produce it, but he failed to do so.

‘Who is it?’

‘A young gentleman who has enjoyed hospitality here under our own roof. In fact, someone to whom you paid a great deal of money, as you wished to give your wife a special wedding present. The apartment Izabela has been visiting regularly is none other than that of Senhor Laurent Brouilly, the sculptor.’

Gustavo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

‘I understand this is the most dreadful shock for you, Gustavo, but given the fact that your wife is with child – after months of being unable to conceive – I felt it was only right to tell you.’

‘Enough!’ cried Gustavo. ‘I agree it is possible that Izabela has visited this man while he has been here in Brazil. They became friends in Paris. And you yourself sent Alessandra Silveira to have Brouilly sculpt her. But even you, Mãe, could not have been in the bedroom with them. And to even insinuate that the child my wife carries is illegitimate is frankly obscene!’