"Had Graziosa one?"
She cowered down on the floor, her beautiful hair falling over her shoulders, her face hidden; then suddenly uplifted it again to Visconti, who sat looking at her, motionless.
"Gian, I loved thee once, when we were little children."
"I have forgotten it, and so hadst thou until this moment—drink!"
Valentine sprang up in a paroxysm of uncontrollable terror.
"I cannot! I cannot! Kill me thyself!"
"With this?" and Visconti touched his dagger. "No; a smoother death for one so fair."
Valentine flew to the door and clung to it.
"Philippe! Philippe!" she shrieked. "Conrad! Costanza!"