He fancied that Marcolina, thrilling, entranced, transfigured, would spontaneously whisper his name.

Then, when she had forgiven him, he would take her with him that very hour.

Together they would leave the house in the grey dawn; together they would seek the carriage that was waiting at the turn of the road; together they would drive away.

She would be his for evermore.

This would be the crown of his life; that at an age when others were doomed to a sad senility, he, by the overwhelming might of his unconquerable personality, would have won for himself the youngest, the most beautiful, the most gifted of women.
For this woman was his as no woman had ever been before.