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This afternoon we had a visit from the Marchese Umberto Strozzi, a scion of a very old Florentine family. He is blond and slim almost to emaciation. His grey eyes are deeply set and his face though sharp and youthful seems as though incised on a very old medal. The first time I met this young man he suggested something mediaeval and ascetic, an impression I could never evoke again. Perhaps I had felt a transient atavistic trait carried unconsciously by but in no wise affecting this very up-to-date and clever young mondain with exquisite manners.

He had travelled a great deal and was all for wandering on by-paths in search of the unusual. This afternoon he spoke of an old clock which he had bought, at a small antiquarian's and which led to a curious experience. This clock, he said, showed on its disk a silver moon which moved with the hours of the night. Being interested to know who was its former owner, he was given the name and address of an Englishman. Investigations led him to some dank and sunless rooms in a small street of Florence where he was received by a very old Englishman enveloped in an Arab burnous. His face was all but covered and two long grey moustaches made him look like a walrus. He collected clocks and the room resounded with their tickings. But his specialty was a collection of stones: magic stones inscribed with unciphered characters and once belonging to a magician of ancient times, - so said the old man. He gave his guest a piece of jade to hold and our friend told us that while it was in his hand he felt as though uplifted and electric shocks