"Mark me," returned Visconti. "Take care thou dost not make my dislike overrule my ambition—the pair of thee hold your lives solely at my pleasure."
He turned to the page.
"Go, and take thy fool with thee, and keep from my sight."
With a white face the wretched page rose and helped Tisio to his feet. At a whisper from his sister he went meekly, Visconti's mad eyes on him the while.
A terrible silence fell.
Valentine steadied herself against the arras. She was thankful to see Tisio go—alive. To ask why the jewel Tisio had fondled had so angered Gian was beyond her daring. "He is possessed," she murmured to herself.
With an unpleasant laugh Visconti turned to her.
"Didst thou urge him to flaunt me with this?" he asked.
"Flaunt thee?" said Valentine. "How should I know a toy like that could rouse such fury?"
The Duke looked at her keenly, and crushed the bracelet together in his hand.