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 clined, like all women in like circumstances, to console herself for the absence of her husband, and, with genuine female art, had contrived to disguise with the mask of lofty virtue the transport she felt on account of the opportunity that presented itself, and perhaps the liking that had sprung up for him at the moment. He determined to punish her with a shower of burning kisses for this little deception. That Apollonia was waiting, waiting with anxiety for him, was as clear to his mind, as that the expression of innocence in her looks, and of the purest modesty in dress and demeanour, was nothing but an appearance, which the highest proficiency in the arts of deception enabled her to assume. But how, when, and where he was to pluck the doubly sweet because forbidden fruit, was what he now had to discover. Apollonia herself had told him, that she should not return till late from a visit of condolence to some of her relations. He, on the other hand, was to be by break of day at the Rialto, where his gondola would be waiting for him. To chance, which had so often befriended him, he at length resolved to leave the decision of this matter. At all events, he had gold and steel in readiness, according as he might need the service of either. To beguile the slow pace of time, he traversed Venice in all directions, visited the public places, and, when night had enveloped town and