"A young peasant-woman wearing a
yellow kerchief round her head advised you to use a healing unguent
which an apothecary with an exceedingly hoarse voice happened to have
with him."
The Abbate nodded, and smiled, well-pleased. Then, with a sly
expression, he came quite close to Casanova, as if about to tell him a
secret. But he spoke out loud.
"As for you, Signor Casanova, you were with a wedding party. I don't
know whether you were one of the ordinary guests or whether you
were best man, but I remember that the bride looked at you far more
languishingly than at the bridegroom. The wind rose; there was half a
gale; you began to read a risky poem."
"No doubt the Chevalier only did so in order to lay the storm," said
Marcolina.
"I never claim the powers of a wizard," rejoined Casanova. "But I will
not deny that after I had begun to read, no one bothered about the
storm." The three girls had encircled the Abbate. For an excellent
reason. From his capacious pockets he produced quantities of luscious
sweets, and popped them into the children's mouths with his stumpy
fingers. Meanwhile Olivo gave the newcomer a circumstantial account of
the rediscovery of Casanova.
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