'Indeed, your highness should consider whether you will not in any event bring in Malatesta so soon as Facino has departed on this errand.'
The handsome, profligate Lonate, lounging, a listener by the window, cleared up all ambiguity: 'And so make sure that this upstart does not return to trouble you again.'
Gian Maria's head sank a little between his shoulders. Here was his chance to rid himself for all time of the tyrannical tutelage of that condottiero, made strong by popular support.
'You speak as if sure that Malatesta will come.'
Della Torre put his cards on the table at last. 'I am. I have his word that he will accept a proposal of alliance from your highness.'
'You have his word!' The ever-ready suspicions of a weak mind were stirring.
'I took his feeling against the hour when your potency might need a friend.'
'And the price?'
Della Torre spread his hands. 'Malatesta has ambitions for his daughter. If she were Duchess of Milan ...'
'Is that a condition?' The Duke's voice was sharp.