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Casanova's Homecoming by Arthur Schnitzler
page 22 of 133 (16%)
"Would it not be wiser," interposed Amalia, "to wait until it is cooler?
I am sure the Chevalier would prefer to rest for a while, or to stroll
in the shade." Her eyes sought Casanova's with shy entreaty, as if she
thought her fate would be decided once again during such a walk in the
garden.

No one had anything to say against Amalia's suggestion, and they all
went out of doors. Marcolina, who led the way, ran across the sunlit
greensward to join the children in their game of battledore and
shuttlecock. She was hardly taller than the eldest of the three girls;
and when her hair came loose in the exercise and floated over her
shoulders she too looked like a child. Olivo and the Abbate seated
themselves on a stone bench beneath the trees, not far from the house.
Amalia sauntered on with Casanova. As soon as the two were out of
hearing, she began to converse with Casanova in a tone which seemed to
ignore the lapse of years.

"So we meet again, Casanova! How I have longed for this day. I never
doubted its coming."

"A mere chance has brought me," said Casanova coldly.

Amalia smiled. "Have it your own way," she said. "Anyhow, you are here!
All these sixteen 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
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