Suddenly the door swung under an impetuous hand. It was the Duke, but Tisio was not startled.
"Gian!" he said, "be kind to her; talk to her, poor thing!"
Visconti stepped into the room, looking at Tisio keenly.
"Where is she?" he asked, for in the gloom he could not at once see the silent figure in the corner. "Where is she, Tisio?"
"The girl with the pretty hair—" began his brother; but Visconti grasped him by the arm with a cry.
"Bring me a light!" he cried, "a light——"
With trembling hands Tisio lit the lamp and brought it near. Its yellow light fell over Visconti's green dress and Graziosa's bright hair.
"If it should be so!" muttered Visconti. "If it should be so!"
The light was faint, but it showed him enough. He looked into her face, and his own changed darkly.