"'Tis the plan of one. Messer Gambera will explain it," and he motioned eagerly to the architect. "Here, messer, this is the porch?" And he laid his finger on the drawing, absorbed in contemplation.
"Yes, my lord."
"Set on three steps?"
"'Tis so, my lord."
"I do not care for that, messer, and I will have more carving—would you not, Graziosa?"
"You must not ask me; indeed I do not know," she smiled.
Visconti's face for an instant darkened. "You must learn," he said. "My duchess must know architecture. Take away the plans, messer; I will look at them alone."
"Perchance the lady might care for the model, my lord?" returned the architect. He spoke bad Italian, and was shaking with nervousness.
"Bring the model," replied Visconti, and the page placed the box upon the table.