Amalia sauntered on with Casanova. As soon as the two were out of
hearing, she began to converse with Casanova in a tone which seemed to
ignore the lapse of years.
"So we meet again, Casanova! How I have longed for this day. I never
doubted its coming."
"A mere chance has brought me," said Casanova coldly.
Amalia smiled. "Have it your own way," she said. "Anyhow, you are here!
All these sixteen years I have done nothing but dream of this day!"
"I can't help thinking," countered Casanova, "that throughout the long
interval you must have dreamed of many other things--and must have done
more than dream."
Amalia shook her head. "You know better, Casanova. Nor had you forgotten
me, for were it otherwise, in your eagerness to get to Venice, you would
never have accepted Olivo's invitation."
"What do you mean, Amalia? Can you imagine I have come here to betray
your husband?"
"How can you use such a phrase, Casanova? Were I to be yours once again,
there would be neither betrayal nor sin."
Casanova laughed. "No sin? Wherefore not? Because I'm an old man?"
"You are not old. For me you can never be an old man.
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