Under the thick powder of dust the shabbiness of his garments was no
longer apparent, so that by his dress and bearing he might easily have
been taken for a gentleman of station who had been pleased for once in a
way to walk instead of drive. He had almost reached the arched gateway
near his inn, when he met a heavy country carriage lumbering along the
road. In it was seated a stoutish man, well dressed, and still fairly
young. His hands were clasped across his stomach, his eyelids drooped,
and he seemed about to doze off, when of a sudden he caught sight
of Casanova, and a great change took place in him. His whole aspect
betrayed great excitement. He sprang to his feet, but too quickly, and
fell back into his seat. Rising again, he gave the driver a punch in the
back, to make the fellow pull up. But since the carriage did not stop
instantly, the passenger turned round so as not to lose sight of
Casanova, signalled with both hands, and finally called to him thrice by
name, in a thin, clear voice. Not till he heard the voice, did Casanova
recognize who it was. By now the carriage had stopped, and Casanova
smilingly seized two hands outstretched towards him, saying:
"Olivo, is it really you?"
"Yes, Signor Casanova, it is I.
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