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"Scusi, signore! " exclaimed the ugly, disreputable-looking old man, holding his battered straw hat behind him, and bowing with as much studied grace as his deformity would allow. The Tuscan, always the essence of politeness, is a marvellous diplomatist. "I regret to disturb the signore," he went on in his soft, musical speech; "but I was anxious to know if he met yesterday in Florence the prior of San Sisto?"
"I did," I replied, amused at his ingenious attempt to affect ignorance of our meeting.