She had it in her hands to effect your salvation, but she has refused.

Your blood rests on her head." She shuddered at the words, and a low moan escaped her.

She covered her face with her hands.

A moment I stood looking at her; then I shifted my glance to Ramiro.
"Will it please you, Illustrious, to allow me a few moments' conversation with Madonna Paola di Santafior ?" I invested my tones with a weight of meaning that did not escape him.
His face suddenly lightened; whilst one of his officers--a fellow very fitly named Lupone--laughed outright.
"Your hero seems none so heroic after all," he said derisively to the Governor.

"The imminence of death makes him amenable." Ramiro scowled on him for answer.