the most beautiful, the most gifted of women.

For this woman was his as no woman had ever been before. He glided with
her through mysterious, narrow canals, between palaces in whose
shadows he was once more at home, under high-arched bridges which
blurred figures were swiftly crossing. Many of the wayfarers glanced
down for a moment over the parapet, and vanished ere their faces could
be discerned.

Now the gondola drew alongside. A marble stairway led up to the stately
mansion of Senator Bragadino. It was the only palace holding festival.
Masked guests were ascending and descending. Many of them paused with
inquisitive glances; but who could recognize Casanova and Marcolina in
their dominoes?

He entered the hall with her. Here was a great company playing for high
stakes. All the senators, Bragadino among them, were seated round the
table in their purple robes. As Casanova came through the door, they
whispered his name as if terror-stricken, for the flashing of his eyes
behind the mask had disclosed his identity. He did not sit down; he did
not take any cards, and yet he joined in the game. He won. He won all
the gold on the table, and this did not suffice. The senators had to
give him notes of hand. They lost their possessions, their palaces,
their purple robes; they were beggars; they crawled round him clad in
rags, kissing his hands.

Nearby, in a hall with crimson hangings, there was music and dancing.
Casanova wished to dance with Marcolina, but she had vanished. Once
again the senators in their purple robes were seated at the table; but
now Casanova knew that the hazards at stake were not those of a game of