Graziosa interrupted him.
"Indeed, my lord is too good; what commands should I have?—tell him so, with my deepest thanks, sir."
Giannotto looked at her curiously, with a mixture of pity and wonder.
"He comes himself, lady, to hear your thanks, and learn your will."
And he stepped aside, joining the group that had been gathered about Graziosa.
Gian Visconti was coming through the garden, a grave-looking man by his side, a white hound at his heels, and two boys following, one bearing a wooden case, the other carrying a roll of drawings.
Visconti was talking to his companion; he was in the best of humors, at the height of triumph and success, his enemies well under his heel, his ambitions on the point of being gratified.
Graziosa came to the head of the steps, and Visconti took his gold cap off and waved it, coming up them gayly.
She stood silent in the glory of the sunshine and held out her hands, and he kissed them, and looked at her and laughed pleasantly.