Ambrogio took little heed of the painter, but closing the door softly behind him, turned with a tender glance to Graziosa.
"Wert thou grieving for me?" he said gently. "I am safe, my beautiful, and see, I have kept my word."
As he spoke he drew out the emerald bracelet from his robe, and handed it with a smile to the girl who stood there, blushing with pleasure and astonishment.
"Thou hast got it back," she cried; "from the Visconti palace!"
Ambrogio smoothed her bright hair tenderly.
"The bracelet was thine," he said, "therefore I went there for it, and have brought it back to thee, even from the Visconti palace."
Agnolo was staring at him in amazement.
"How didst thou do it!" he exclaimed.
Ambrogio touched his bandaged arm with a smile.
"With only a small injury," he said, "since 'tis not the hand I paint with."