It might well be, Valentina," he pursued, with a calculating coldness that revolted her, "that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two duchies.

In time both might become united under him into one great power that might vie successfully with any in Italy.

Now leave me, child.
As you see, I am suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil tyrant has me in its clutches, I prefer to be alone." There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon the ground in avoidance of his glance.

A frown marred her white brow, her lips were set and her hands clenched.

Pity for his physical ills fought a while with pity for her own mental torment.