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But I had not given her causedistinctly I had not。
I had said to Mrs。 Prest that I would make love to her；
but it had been a joke without consequences and I had never
said it to Tita Bordereau。 I had been as kind as possible；
because I really liked her； but since when had that become a crime
where a woman of such an age and such an appearance was concerned？
I am far from remembering clearly the succession of events and
feelings during this long day of confusion； which I spent entirely
in wandering about； without going home； until late at night；
it only comes back to me that there were moments when I
pacified my conscience and others when I lashed it into pain。
I did not laugh all daythat I do recollect； the case； however it
might have struck others； seemed to me so little amusing。
It would have been better perhaps for me to feel the comic
side of it。 At any rate； whether I had given cause or not
it went without saying that I could not pay the price。
I could not accept。 I could not； for a bundle of tattered papers；
marry a ridiculous； pathetic； provincial old woman。
it was a proof that she did not think the idea would come to me；
her having determined to suggest it herself in that practical；
argumentative； heroic way； in which the timidity however had
been so much more striking than the boldness that her reasons
appeared to come first and her feelings afterward。
As the day went on I grew to wish that I had never
heard of Aspern's relics； and I cursed the extravagant
curiosity that had put John Cumnor on the scent of them。
We had more than enough material without them； and my
predicament was the just punishment of that most fatal
of human follies； our not having known when to stop。
It was very well to say it was no predicament； that the way
out was simple； that I had only to leave Venice by the first
train in the morning； after writing a note to Miss Tita；
to be placed in her hand as soon as I got clear of the house；
for it was a strong sign that I was embarrassed that when I
tried to make up the note in my mind in advance （I would put it
on paper as soon as I got home； before going to bed）； I could
not think of anything but 〃How can I thank you for the rare
confidence you have placed in me？〃 That would never do；
it sounded exactly as if an acceptance were to follow。
Of course I might go away without writing a word； but that would
be brutal and my idea was still to exclude brutal solutions。
As my confusion cooled I was lost in wonder at the importance I
had attached to Miss Bordereau's crumpled scraps； the thought
of them became odious to me； and I was as vexed with the old
witch for the superstition that had prevented her from destroying
them as I was with myself for having already spent more money
than I could afford in attempting to control their fate。
I forget what I did； where I went after leaving the Lido
and at what hour or with what recovery of composure I made
my way back to my boat。 I only know that in the afternoon；
when the air was aglow with the sunset； I was standing
before the church of Saints John and Paul and looking up
at the small square…jawed face of Bartolommeo Colleoni；
the terrible condottiere who sits so sturdily astride
of his huge bronze horse； on the high pedestal on which
Venetian gratitude maintains him。 The statue is incomparable；
the finest of all mounted figures； unless that of Marcus Aurelius；
who rides benignant before the Roman Capitol； be finer：
but I was not thinking of that； I only found myself staring
at the triumphant captain as if he had an oracle on his lips。
The western light shines into all his grimness at that hour
and makes it wonderfully personal。 But he continued to look
far over my head； at the red immersion of another day
he had seen so many go down into the lagoon through the centuries
and if he were thinking of battles and stratagems they
were of a different quality from any I had to tell him of。
He could not direct me what to do； gaze up at him as I might。
Was it before this or after that I wandered about for an hour
in the small canals； to the continued stupefaction of my gondolier；
who had never seen me so restless and yet so void of a purpose and
could extract from me no order but 〃Go anywhereeverywhereall over
the place〃？ He reminded me that I had not lunched and expressed
therefore respectfully the hope that I would dine earlier。
He had had long periods of leisure during the day； when I had left
the boat and rambled； so that I was not obliged to consider him；
and I told him that that day； for a change； I would touch
no meat。 It was an effect of poor Miss Tita's proposal；
not altogether auspicious； that I had quite lost my appetite。
I don't know why it happened that on this occasion I was more than
ever struck with that queer air of sociability； of cousinship
and family life； which makes up half the expression of Venice。
Without streets and vehicles； the uproar of wheels； the brutality
of horses； and with its little winding ways where people
crowd together； where voices sound as in the corridors of a house；
where the human step circulates as if it skirted the angles
of furniture and shoes never wear out； the place has the character
of an immense collective apartment； in which Piazza San Marco
is the most ornamented corner and palaces and churches；
for the rest； play the part of great divans of repose；
tables of entertainment； expanses of decoration。 And somehow
the splendid common domicile； familiar； domestic； and resonant；
also resembles a theater； with actors clicking over bridges and；
in straggling processions； tripping along fondamentas。 As
you sit in your gondola the footways that in certain parts edge
the canals assume to the eye the importance of a stage； meeting it
at the same angle； and the Venetian figures； moving to and fro
against the battered scenery of their little houses of comedy；
strike you as members of an endless dramatic troupe。
I went to bed that night very tired； without being able to compose
a letter to Miss Tita。 Was this failure the reason why I became
conscious the next morning as soon as I awoke of a determination
to see the poor lady again the first moment she would receive me？
That had something to do with it； but what had still more was the fact
that during my sleep a very odd revulsion had taken place in my spirit。
I found myself aware of this almost as soon as I opened my eyes；
it made me jump out of my bed with the movement of a man who remembers
that he has left the house door ajar or a candle burning under a shelf。
Was I still in time to save my goods？ That question was in my heart；
for what had now come to pass was that in the unconscious cerebration
of sleep I had swung back to a passionate appreciation of Miss
Bordereau's papers。 They were now more precious than ever；
and a kind of ferocity had come into my desire to possess them。
The condition Miss Tita had attached to the possession o