Her arms fell to her sides; her lips moved strangely, as if whispering a prayer; once more she looked searchingly across the garden, then nodded almost imperceptibly, and at the instant someone who must hitherto have been crouching at her feet swung across the sill into the open.

It was Lorenzi.

He flew rather than walked across the gravel into the alley, which he crossed barely ten yards from Casanova, who held his breath as he lay behind the bench.

Lorenzi, hastening on, made his way down a narrow strip of grass running along the wall, and disappeared from view.
Casanova heard a door groan on its hinges--the very door doubtless through which he, Olivo, and the Marchese had reentered the garden on the previous day--and then all was still.

Marcolina had remained motionless.