In turning over another manuscript, I was caught by the name Charpillon, which every reader of the Memoirs will remember as the name of the harpy by whom Casanova suffered so much in London, in 1763-4.  This manuscript begins by saying:  ’I have been in London for six months and have been to see them (that is, the mother and daughter) in their own house,’ where he finds nothing but ’swindlers, who cause all who go there to lose their money in gambling.’  This manuscript adds some details to the story told in the ninth and tenth volumes of the Memoirs, and refers to the meeting with the Charpillons four and a half years before, described in Volume V., pages 428-485.  It is written in a tone of great indignation.  Elsewhere, I found a letter written by Casanova, but not signed, referring to an anonymous letter which he had received in reference to the Charpillons, and ending:  ‘My handwriting is known.’  It was not until the last that I came upon great bundles of letters addressed to Casanova, and so carefully preserved that little scraps of paper, on which postscripts are written, are still in their places.  One still sees the seals on the backs of many of the letters, on paper which has slightly yellowed with age, leaving the ink, however, almost always fresh.  They come from Venice, Paris, Rome, Prague, Bayreuth, The Hague, Genoa, Fiume, Trieste, etc., and are addressed to as many places, often poste restante.  Many are letters from women, some in beautiful handwriting, on thick paper; others on scraps of paper, in painful hands, ill-spelt.  A Countess writes pitifully, imploring help; one protests her love, in spite of the ‘many chagrins’ he has caused her; another asks ’how they are to live together’; another laments that a report has gone about that she is secretly living with him, which may harm his reputation.  Some are in French, more in Italian.  ‘Mon cher Giacometto’, writes one woman, in French; ‘Carissimo a Amatissimo’, writes another, in Italian.  These letters from women are in some confusion, and are in need of a good deal of sorting over and rearranging before their full extent can be realised.  Thus I found letters in the same handwriting separated by letters in other handwritings; many are unsigned, or signed only by a single initial; many are undated, or dated only with the day of the week or month.  There are a great many letters, dating from 1779 to 1786, signed ‘Francesca Buschini,’ a name which I cannot identify; they are written in Italian, and one of them begins:  ‘Unico Mio vero Amico’ (’my only true friend’).  Others are signed ‘Virginia B.’; one of these is dated, ’Forli, October 15, 1773.’  There is also a ‘Theresa B.,’ who writes from Genoa.  I was at first unable to identify the writer of a whole series of letters in French, very affectionate and intimate letters, usually unsigned, occasionally signed ‘B.’  She calls herself votre petite amie; or she ends with a half-smiling, half-reproachful ’goodnight, and sleep better