Thinking that her hour had at length come, she had drawn near, and was pressing up against him in a manner which could not be misunderstood.

He clasped her somewhat roughly, kissed her on both cheeks, and, although she was obviously ready to grant him the last favors then and there, exclaimed: "I must be off.

Till our next meeting!" He tore himself away with such violence that she fell back on to the corner of the couch.

Her expression, with its mingling of disappointment, rage, and impotence, was so irresistibly funny that Casanova, as he closed the door behind him, burst out laughing.
The coachman could not fail to realize that his fare was in a hurry, but it was not his business to ask questions.

He sat ready oil the box when Casanova came out of the inn, and whipped up the horse the very moment the passenger was seated.