In imagination he saw Marcolina, as yet unknown to him, lying in her white bed, opposite the window.

She had thrown off the bedclothes; her form was half revealed; still heavy with sleep she moved her hands to ward off the hail of nuts.
His senses flamed.

He was as certain that Marcolina and Lieutenant Lorenzi were in love with one another as if he had seen them in a passionate embrace.

He was just as ready to detest the unknown Lorenzi as to long for the never seen Marcolina.
Through the shimmering haze of noon, a small, square tower now became visible, thrusting upward through the greyish-green foliage.

The carriage turned into a by-road.