Marjorie Bowen

“ Francisco soothed and tended him.
"Think not of it; get well," he said, as he had said to Tomaso. "Live and help rid the world of the Visconti. He would have thee die a dog's death. Is not life dear to thee?"
"Yes, I will live," said Conrad, "and I will take revenge both for my own wrongs and for a woman's sake."
Francisco turned quickly and looked at him keenly.
"A woman's sake! Thy motive is the same as mine: I too am living—for a woman's sake." ”

“ Could Gian Visconti have seen his victim now, even he might have started, for it is hard to imagine what men who die of hunger look like.
The trees, softly moving, made pleasant light and shade; the myrtle blossoms blew and sailed in little clouds of mauve, while the sweet-smelling leaves of the citron hung their rich clusters over opening lilies. Conrad, dragging himself across the grass, with straining eyes and parted lips, thought only of the water in the fountain, and saw only those two dead birds. Poisoned! Visconti had forestalled all chances. ”

“ For the first time since their knowledge of him Francisco laughed, and without bitterness.
"One of Visconti's victims! It is some poor satisfaction to have rescued two," he said. "I know nothing of him except that it is plainly to be seen he is some person of distinction. We will nurse him to the best of our skill. Tomaso, he may be of use——"
Then suddenly Francisco's humor changed. He glanced around him at the boy, the youth, scarcely recovered from his fever, the ghastly figure on the ground over which he bent, and fury shook him. ”