Disappointing results from material that has the potentials of a Costain romantic adventure novel. Aldington is off to a slow start with a prelude that sets the scene as Casanova, in old age, yearns back to the one real love of his notorious career. The balance of the book deals with that story, his rescue of a mysterious lady from the canals of his beloved Venice, his frenzied search for her and the obstacles that made fulfilment all the more desirable- attainment, and again loss, through his own too great allure for lovely ladies. And finally, following exile, return, imprisonment and escape, the discovery of her identity and finale. The plot is sketched in and out, a thread in the richly patterned tapestry of his age in Venice, Rome, Florence. There's glamour in its background but the characters- except for Casanova himself, are marionettes on a multi-patterned stage. Perhaps the public taste of the moment will find Casanova's amours sufficient inducement. I confess to finding the book overlong, uneven, and often dull.