eing bestowed upon two
persons at the same time, nor do I believe it possible to keep love to a
high degree of intensity if you give it either too much food or none at
all. That which maintained my passion for M---- M ---- in a state of great
vigour was that I could never possess her without running the risk of
losing her.

"It is impossible," I said to her once, "that some time or other one of
the nuns should not want to speak to you when you are absent?"

"No," she answered, "that cannot happen, because there is nothing more
religiously respected in a convent than the right of a nun to deny
herself, even to the abbess. A fire is the only circumstance I have to
fear, because in that case there would be general uproar and confusion,
and it would not appear natural that a nun should remain quietly locked
up in her cell in the midst of such danger; my escape would then be
discovered. I have contrived to gain over the lay-sister and the
gardener, as well as another nun, and that miracle was performed by my
cunning assisted by my lover's gold.

"He answers for the fidelity of the cook and his wife who take care of
the casino. He has likewise every confidence in the two gondoliers,
although one of them is sure to be a spy of the State Inquisitors."

On Christmas Eve she announced the return of her lover, and she told him
that on St. Stephen's Day she would go with him to the opera, and that
they would afterwards spend the night together.

"I shall expect you, my beloved one," she added, "on the last day of the
year, and here is a letter which I beg you not to read till you get
home."

As I had to move in order to make room for her lover, I packed my things
early in the morning, and, bidding farewell to a place in which during
ten days I had enjoyed so many delights, I returned to the Bragadin
Palace, where I read the following letter:

"You have somewhat offended me, my own darling, by telling me, respecting
the mystery which I am bound to keep on the subject of my lover, that,
satisfied to possess my heart, you left me mistress of my mind. That
division of the heart and of the mind appears to me a pure sophism, and
if it does not strike you as such you must admit that you do not love me
wholly, for I cannot exist without mind, and you cannot cherish my heart
if it does not agree with my mind. If your love cannot accept a different
state of things it does not excel in delicacy. However, as some
circumstance might occ