"And a pair of turquoise gloves," added Visconti, with a change of tone.
Giannotto glanced up.
"Are they not worth three hundred ducats?" said Visconti, smiling. "Did not the Pope and Emperor both wish to buy them, and fail?"
Giannotto bowed his head over again and studied the scrip in silence.
Visconti watched him keenly.
He thought, "I know he would betray me for a ducat!—if I were not Visconti."
He turned to the narrow window, and looked out onto the city spreading beneath him.
"The Empire," he muttered to himself. "The Empire and the French—I will awe them and humor them while I must—but let me once gain Carrara—as I shall—I can dispense with them and deal with Della Scala as I list."
He turned from the window to Giannotto, and his face had lost its lines.