"But," said I, "he is the son of the Marquis Desarmoises, of Nancy."

"No, he isn't; he is only a retired messenger, with a small pension from
the department of foreign affairs. I know the Marquis Desarmoises; he
lives at Nancy, and is not so old as our friend."

"Then one can't see how he can be Desarmoises's father."

"The landlord of the inn at Strasburg knew him when he was a messenger."

"How did you make his acquaintance?"

"We met at the table d'hote. After dinner he came up to my room, and told
me he was waiting for a gentleman who was going to Augsburg, and that we
might make the journey together. He told me the name, and after
questioning him I concluded that the gentleman was yourself, so here we
are, and I am very glad of it. But listen to me; I advise you to drop all
false styles and titles. Why do you call yourself Seingalt?"

"Because it's my name, but that doesn't prevent my old friends calling me
Casanova, for I am both. You understand?"

"Oh, yes! I understand. Your mother is at Prague, and as she doesn't get
her pension on account of the war, I am afraid she must be rather in
difficulties."

"I know it, but I do not forget my filial duties. I have sent her some
money."