"You will catch a cold."

"What is the prima donna's name?"

"When she came here, she called herself Lanti, but for the last two
months she has been Madame Palesi. She married a handsome young man with
no property and no profession, but she is rich, so he takes his ease and
does nothing."

"Where does she live?"

"At the end of this street. There's her house, sir; she lodges on the
first floor."

This was all I wanted to know, so I said no more, but took note of the
various turnings, that I might be able to find my way alone the next day.
I ate a light supper, and told Le Duc to call me at six o'clock.

"But it is not light till seven."

"I know that."

"Very good."

At the dawn of day, I was at the door of the woman I had loved so
passionately. I went to the first floor, rang the bell, and an old woman
came out and asked me if I were M. Casanova. I told her that I was,
whereupon she said that the lady had informed her I was not coming till
eight.

"She said seven."

"Well, well, it's of no consequence. Kindly walk in here. I will go and
awake her."

In five minutes, the young husband in his night-cap and dressing-gown
came in, and said that his wife would not be long. Then looking at me
attentively with an astounded stare, he said,

"Are you not the gentleman who asked me my wife's name last night?"

"You are right, I did. I have not seen your wife for many years, but I
thought I recognized her. My good fortune made me enquire of her husband,
and the friendship which formerly attached me to her will henceforth
attach me to you."

As I uttered this pretty compliment Therese, as fair as love, rushed into
the room with open arms. I took her to my bosom in a transport of
delight, and thus we remained for two minutes, two friends, two lovers,
happy to see one another after a long and sad parting. We kissed each
other again and again, and then bidding her husband sit down she drew me
to a couch and gave full course to her tears. I wept too, and my tears
were happy ones. At last we wiped our eyes, and glanced towards the
husband whom we had completely forgotten. He stood in an attitude of
complete astonishment, and we burst out laughing. There was something so
comic in his surprise that it would have taxed all the talents of the
poet and the caricaturist to depict his expression of amazement. Therese,
who knew how to manage him, cried in a pathetic an affectionate voice,--

"My dear Palesi, you see be