xteen years I have done nothing but dream of this day!"

"I can't help thinking," countered Casanova, "that throughout the long
interval you must have dreamed of many other things--and must have done
more than dream."

Amalia shook her head. "You know better, Casanova. Nor had you forgotten
me, for were it otherwise, in your eagerness to get to Venice, you would
never have accepted Olivo's invitation."

"What do you mean, Amalia? Can you imagine I have come here to betray
your husband?"

"How can you use such a phrase, Casanova? Were I to be yours once again,
there would be neither betrayal nor sin."

Casanova laughed. "No sin? Wherefore not? Because I'm an old man?"

"You are not old. For me you can never be an old man. In your arms I had
my first taste of bliss, and I doubt not it is my destiny that my last
bliss shall be shared with you!"

"Your last?" rejoined Casanova cynically, though he was not altogether
unmoved. "I think my friend Olivo would have a word to say about that."

"What you speak of," said Amalia reddening, "is duty, and even pleasure;
but it is not and never has been bliss."

They did not walk to the end of the grass alley. Both seemed to shun the
neighborhood of the greensward, where Marcolina and the children were
playing. As if by common consent they retraced their steps, and, silent
now, approached the house again. One of the ground-floor windows at the
gable end of the house was open. Through this Casanova glimpsed in the
dark interior a half-drawn curtain, from behind which the foot of a bed
projected. Over an adjoining chair was hanging a light, gauzy dress.

"Is that Marcolina's room?" enquired Casanova.

Amalia nodded. "Do you like her?" she said--nonchalantly, as it seemed
to Casanova.

"Of course, since she is good looking."

"She's a good girl as well."

Casanova shrugged, as if the goodness were no concern of his. Then:
"Tell me, Amalia, did you think me still handsome when you first saw me
to-day?"

"I do not know if your looks have changed. To me you seem just the same
as of old. You are as I have always seen you, as I have seen you in my
dreams."

"Look well, Amalia. See the wrinkles on my forehead; the loose folds of
my neck; the crow's-feet round my eyes. And look," he grinned, "I have
lost one of my eye teeth. Look at these hands, too, Amalia. My fingers
are like claws; there are yellow spots on the finger-nails; the blue
veins stand out. They are the hands of