"You know, Signor Gradenigo," she said, with a loftiness that was not less puzzling, though far more intelligible than the agitation which a moment before had embarrassed her manner, "that I am the last of a line eminent for centuries in the state of Venice."
"So sayeth our history."
"That I bear a name long known, and which it becomes me to shield from all imputation of discredit in my own person."
"This is so true, that it scarce needed so clear an exposure," drily returned the senator.
"And that, though thus gifted by the accidents of fortune and birth, I have received a boon that remains still unrequited, in a manner to do no honor to the house of Thiepolo."
"This becometh serious! Donna Florinda, our ward is more earnest than intelligible, and I must ask an explanation at your hands. It becometh her not to receive boons of this nature from any."
"Though unprepared for this request," mildly replied the companion, "I think she speaks of the boon of life."
The Signor Gradenigo's countenance assumed a dark expression.
"I understand you," he said, coldly. "It is true that the Neapolitan was ready to rescue thee, when the calamity befell thy uncle of Florence, but Don Camillo Monforte is not a common diver of the Lido, to be rewarded like him who finds a bauble dropped from a gondola. Thou hast thanked the cavalier; I trust that a noble maiden can do no more in a case like this."
"That I have thanked him, and thanked him from my soul, is true!" fervently exclaimed Violetta. "When I forget the service, Maria Santissima and the good saints forget me!"