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shared in no wise her father's views, kept fluttering in and out of the salon like some exotic bird, without a moment's pause. She told us with unconscious humour that her favourite metal was gold, and showed some coloured illustrations of those hammered gold ornaments belonging to a very early period. She held in her arms the smallest of small grey griffons. This tiny dog was like a fragile object d'art. I was fearing lest it should be crushed by the reflex movement of its nervous owner, when in the quiet of the salon there suddenly arose the most piercing of yelps emanating from no other than that wee grey bit of life. It had reliever itself, and its young mistress was now striking it mercilessly with long strap-like fingers. I protested but the angry little woman went on and on with the slapping. "It should have known better", she kept saying.

Some days later I heard that a careless person had trodden on this wee creature and that it was now at a dogs' hospital with its tiny legs in splints.

October 7th. A great deal of firing last night near Fiesole. People say that the alarm was given to allow Mussolini, Presumably very ill, to be transferred by aeroplane to a "casa di cura" at Fiesole. But this is probably mere gossip. The papers give out that the Duce is in good health and attending to State affairs somewhere