Casanova went on with the game, still winning, so that the Marchese ere
long was several hundred ducats in his debt. "What's the use of it all?"
thought Casanova at first. But by degrees he was once more ensnared by
the lure of the gaming table. "After all," he mused, "this is a lucky
turn of fortune. I shall soon be a thousand to the good, perhaps even
two thousand. The Marchese will not fail to pay his debt. It would be
pleasant to take a modest competence with me to Venice. But why Venice?
Who regains wealth, regains youth. Wealth is everything. At any rate,
I shall now be able to buy her. Whom? The only woman I want.... She
is standing naked at the window.... I am sure she is waiting there,
expecting me to come.... She is standing at the window to drive me mad!"

All the same, with unruffled brow he continued dealing the cards, not
only to the Marchese, but also to Olivo and to the brothers Ricardi. To
the latter from time to time he pushed over a gold piece to which they
had no claim, but which they accepted without comment. The noise of a
trotting horse came from the road. "Lorenzi," thought Casanova. The
hoofbeats echoed for a time from the garden wall, until sound and echo
gradually died away.

At length Casanova's luck turned. The Marchese staked more and more
boldly. By midnight Casanova was as poor as at the beginning; nay,
poorer, for he had lost the few ducats with which he had made his first
venture. Pushing the cards away, he stood up with a smile, saying:
"Thank you, gentlemen, for a pleasant game."

Olivo stretched out both hands towards Casanova. "Dear friend, let us
go on with the game. .... You have a hundred and fifty ducats. Have you
forgotten them? Not only a hundred and fifty ducats, but all that I