words.

"Take it," said Olivo to Teresina, smoothing her rumpled hair. "Hand it
to the messenger."

"Here are two gold pieces for the man," added Casanova. "He must bestir
himself, so that the letter may leave Mantua for Venice to-day. And ask
him to tell my hostess at the inn that I shall return this evening."

"This evening?" exclaimed Olivo. "Impossible!"

"Oh, well, we'll see," observed Casanova affably. "Here, Teresina, take
this, a gold piece for yourself." When Olivo demurred, Casanova added:
"Put it in your moneybox, Teresina. That letter is worth any amount of
gold pieces!"

Teresina tripped away, and Casanova nodded to himself contentedly. In
days gone by he had possessed the girl's mother and grandmother also,
and he thought it a particularly good joke that he was paying the little
wench for her favors under the very eyes of her father.




CHAPTER SEVEN.


When Casanova entered the hall with Olivo, cards had already begun. He
acknowledged with serene dignity the effusive greeting of the company,
and took his place opposite the Marchese, who was banker. The windows