year-old
Teresina, entered, to tell him that the whole company was assembled
below, and that the Chevalier was impatiently awaited at the card
table. Her eyes gleamed strangely; her cheeks were flushed; her thick,
black hair lay loose upon her temples; her little mouth was half open.

"Have you been drinking wine, Teresina?" asked Casanova striding towards
her.

"Yes. How did you know?" She blushed deeper, and in her embarrassment
she moistened her lips with her tongue.

Casanova seized her by the shoulders, and, breathing in her face, drew
her to the bed. She looked at him with great helpless eyes in which
the light was now extinguished. But when she opened her mouth as if to
scream, Casanova's aspect was so menacing that she was almost paralyzed
with fear, and let him do whatever he pleased.

He kissed her with a tender fierceness, whispering: "You must not tell
the Abbate anything about this, Teresina, not even in confession. Some
day, when you have a lover or a husband, there is no reason why he
should know anything about it. You should always keep your own counsel.
Never tell the truth to your father, your mother, or your sisters, that
it may be well with you on earth. Mark my words." As he spoke thus
blasphemously, Teresina seemed to regard his utterance as a pious
admonition, for she seized his hand and kissed it reverently as if it
had been a priest's.

He laughed. "Come," he said, "come, little wife, we will walk arm in arm
into the room downstairs!"

She seemed a little coy at first, but smiled with genuine gratification.

It was high time for them to go down, for they met Olivo coming up. He
was flushed and wore a frown, so that Casanova promptly inferred that
the Marchese or the Abbate had roused his suspicions by some coarse jest
concerning Teresina's prolonged absence. His brow cleared when he beheld
Casanova on the threshold, standing arm in arm with the girl as if in
sport.

"I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting, Olivo," said Casanova. "I had
to finish my letter." He held the missive out to Olivo in proof of his
words.

"Take it," said Olivo to Teresina, smoothing her rumpled hair. "Hand it
to the messenger."

"Here are two gold pieces for the man," added Casanova. "He must bestir
himself, so that the letter may leave Mantua for Venice to-day. And ask
him to tell my hostess at the inn that I shall return this evening."

"This evening?" exclaimed Olivo. "Impossible!"

"Oh, well, we'll se