Had she not implored him to grant her but a single night of love; and had he not spurned her as one who could still choose where he pleased?
But Marcolina--such as Marcolina were no longer at his disposal.

Had such as Marcolina ever been at his disposal?
Doubtless there were women of that kind.

Perchance he had met more than one such woman before.
Always, however, some more willing than she had been available, and he had never been the man to waste a day in vain sighing.

Since not even Lorenzi had succeeded with Marcolina, since she had rejected the hand of this comely officer who was as handsome and as bold as he, Casanova, had been in youth, Marcolina might well prove to be that wonder of the world in the existence of which he had hitherto disbelieved--the virtuous woman.
At this juncture he laughed, so that the walls reechoed.

"The bungler, the greenhorn!" he exclaimed out loud, as so often in such self-communings.