Of course the gondolier knew where Marcolina was; but why was he, too, masked?
That had not been the custom of old in Venice.

Casanova wished to question him, but was afraid.

Does a man become so cowardly when he grows old?
Onward, ever onward.

How huge Venice had grown during these five-and-twenty years! At length the houses came to an end; the canal opened out; they were passing between islands; there stood the walls of the Murano nunnery, to which Marcolina had fled.
There was no gondola now; he had to swim; how delightful! It was true that in Venice the children were playing with his gold pieces.

But what was money to him?
The water was now warm, now cold; it dripped from his clothing as he climbed over the wall.
"Where is Marcolina ?" he enquired in the parlor, in loud, challenging tones such as only a prince would dare to use.
"I will summon her," said the Lady Abbess, and sank into the ground.
Casanova wandered about; he had wings; he fluttered to and fro along the gratings, fluttered like a bat.