vaguely piercing the twilight. Not until several seconds had elapsed did
she appear to collect herself, to grow fully awake and aware, directing
her eyes slowly, now to right and now to left. Then she leaned forward,
as if seeking for something on the gravel, and next she turned her head,
from which her hair was hanging loosely, and looked up towards the
windows in the upper story. Thereafter, she stood motionless for a
while, supporting herself with a hand on either side of the window-frame
as though she were fastened to an invisible cross. Now at length,
suddenly illumined as it were from within, her features grew plain to
Casanova's vision. A smile flitted across her face. Her arms fell to her
sides; her lips moved strangely, as if whispering a prayer; once
more she looked searchingly across the garden, then nodded almost
imperceptibly, and at the instant someone who must hitherto have been
crouching at her feet swung across the sill into the open. It was
Lorenzi. He flew rather than walked across the gravel into the alley,
which he crossed barely ten yards from Casanova, who held his breath
as he lay behind the bench. Lorenzi, hastening on, made his way down a
narrow strip of grass running along the wall, and disappeared from view.
Casanova heard a door groan on its hinges--the very door doubtless
through which he, Olivo, and the Marchese had reentered the garden
on the previous day--and then all was still. Marcolina had remained
motionless. As soon as she knew that Lorenzi was safely away, she drew a
deep breath, and closed grating and window. The curtain fell back into
its place, and all was as it had been. Except for one thing; for now, as
if there were no longer any reason for delay, day dawned over house and
garden.

Casanova was still lying behind the bench, his arms outstretched before
him. After a while he crept on all fours to the middle of the alley, and
thence onward till he reached a place where he could not be seen from