It was in the afternoon, towards sunset, and I was sitting in the old green arm-chair watching the goldfinch in his cage, and thinking sadly of the poor dear baroness, and of my boy, and of many things.

The bell rang and Mariuccia brought me a card in her thick fingers which were black from peeling potatoes, so that the mark of her thumb came off on the white pasteboard.

The name on the card was "Baron Ahasuerus Benoni," and there was no address.

I told her to show the signore into the sitting-room, and he was not long in coming.

I immediately recognised the man Nino had described, with his unearthly freshness of complexion, his eagle nose, and his snow-white hair.