"What?" smiled Visconti.
The pages had gathered up the drawings, and the architect had removed his precious model and withdrawn.
They were alone, and Graziosa rose and looked at Visconti a little timidly.
"I—I mean—there will be peace soon—you think, my lord?"
"I think so—but peace or war, it shall not touch thee, Graziosa."
"Indeed, I do not fear it—but——"
She hesitated a moment, and glanced anxiously at Visconti's smiling face.
"Prince Mastino's wife—my lord——"
"What of her?" asked Gian, lightly. "How does she trouble thee?"