He read the letter, asked me to follow him into his study, and the moment we were alone, he said;
“Here is a parcel for you.”
I opened it, and found some forty sequins. Seeing my surprise, M. de Bragadin laughed merrily and handed me the letter, the contents of which ran thus:
“M. de Casanova may be sure that our playing last night was only a joke: he owes me nothing. My wife begs to send him half of the gold which he has lost in cash. “COUNT RINALDI.”
I looked at M. de Bragadin, perfectly amazed, and he burst out laughing. I guessed the truth, thanked him, and embracing him tenderly I promised to be wiser for the future. The mist I had before my eyes was dispelled, I felt that my love was defunct, and I remained rather ashamed, when I realized that I had been the dupe of the wife as well as of the husband.
“This evening,” said my clever physician, “you can have a gay supper with the charming countess.”
“This evening, my dear, respected benefactor, I will have supper with you. You have given me a masterly lesson.”
“The next time you lose money upon trust, you had better not pay it.”
“But I should be dishonoured.”
“Never mind. The sooner you dishonour yourself, the more you will save, for you will always be compelled to accept your dishonour whenever you find yourself utterly unable to pay your losses. It is therefore more prudent not to wait until then.”