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He took refuge in the trite assertion that such views as Marcolina's were a menace, not only to the ecclesiastical ordering of society, but to the very foundations of social life.
From Marcolina's sigh of surrender, from the tears of happiness which he kissed from her cheeks, from the ever-renewed warmth with which she received his caresses, he felt sure that she shared his rapture; and to him this rapture seemed more intense than he had ever experienced, seemed to possess a new and strange quality.
Should I not, with a little patience, have reached the same goal? Lorenzi would in any case have gone to-morrow, whilst I should have remained. Five days, three days, and she would have given herself to me, knowing me to be Casanova." He stood close to the wall of the house beneath Marcolina's window, which was still closed. His thoughts ran on: "Is it too late?
She has told me by letter, of course, for the inmates are under a vow of perpetual silence that she has heard of Marcolina's erudition, and would like to meet her face to face." "I hope, Marcolina," said Lorenzi, speaking to her for the first time, "that you will not attempt to imitate the noble abbess in other respects as well as learning." "Why should I?" rejoined Marcolina serenely.
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.
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