eight o'clock
So he had read in one chronicle . Very well , he would act . Again he would stand , with fearless eyes , at the portal of the vaulted past . At eight o'clock that night he once more rang the third bell . He had feared that the Countess Casanova might have returned to European triumphs , but the solicitations of the scientific world were still prevailing . He stood in the little parlour and again the Countess appeared from behind the heavy curtains , a plump white hand at the throat of her scarlet gown . He was obliged to recall himself to her , for the Countess began to tell him that his aura was clouded with evil curnts .