It must be glorious to bear so renowned a name."
"You flatter me, Signor Marchese," replied Casanova. "I have not yet
abandoned the hope of winning such a name, but I am still far from
having done so. It may be that a work on which I am now engaged will
bring me nearer to the goal."
"We can take a short cut here," said Olivo, turning into a path which
led straight to the wall of his garden.
"Work?" echoed the Marchese with a doubtful air. "May I enquire to what
work you refer, Chevalier?"
"If you ask me that question, Signor Marchese, I shall in my turn feel
impelled to enquire what you meant just now when you referred to my
renown."
Arrogantly he faced the Marchese's piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well
that neither his romance _Icosameron_ nor yet his _Confutazione della
storia del governo veneto d'Amelot de la Houssaie_ had brought him any
notable reputation as an author. Nevertheless it was his pose to imply
that for him no other sort of reputation was desirable. He therefore
deliberately misunderstood the Marchese's tentative observations and
cautious allusions, which implied that Casanova was a celebrated
seducer, gamester, man of affairs, political emissary, or what not.
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