to the
bridegroom, the bride, or the bride's mother--he had forgotten which.

"The best thing I could do," he mused, "would be to pack up the money,
say farewell to Olivo and Amalia, and leave the place at once, if
possible without seeing Marcolina again. Yet when was I ever guided by
reason?--I wonder if news has reached Mantua from Venice? But my good
hostess promised to forward without fail anything that might arrive."

The maid meanwhile had brought a large earthenware pitcher filled with
water freshly drawn from the spring. Casanova sponged himself all over.
Greatly refreshed, he dressed in his best suit, the one he had intended
to wear the previous evening had there been time to change. Now,
however, he was delighted that he would be able to appear before
Marcolina better clad than on the previous day, to present himself in a
new form as it were.

So he sauntered into the garden wearing a coat of grey satin richly
embroidered and trimmed with Spanish lace; a yellow waistcoat; and
knee-breeches of cherry-colored silk. His aspect was that of a man who
was distinguished without being proud. An amiable smile played about his
lips, and his eyes sparkled with the fire of inextinguishable youth. To
his disappointment, he found no one but Olivo, who bade him be seated,
and invited him to fall to upon the modest fare. Casanova's breakfast
consisted of bread, butter, milk, and eggs, followed by peaches and
grapes, which seemed to him the finest he had ever eaten. Now the three
girls came running across the lawn. Casanova kissed them in turn,
bestowing on the thirteen-year-old Teresina such caresses as the Abbate
had been free with on the previous day. Her eyes gleamed in a way with
which Casanova was familiar. He was convinced this meant something more
to her than childish amusement.

Olivo was delighted to see how well the Chevalier got on with the girls.
"Must you really leave us to-morrow morning?" he enquired tentatively.
"This very evening," rejoined Casanova jovially. "You know, my dear
Olivo, I must consider the wishes of the Venetian senators...."

"How have they earned the right to any such consideration from you?"
broke in Olivo. "Let them wait. Stay here for another two days at least;
or, better still, for a week."

Casanova slowly shook his head. He had seized Teresina's hands, and held
her prisoner between his knees. She drew herself gently away, with a
smile no longer that of a child. At this moment Amal