Curtain was open in early eve. and I glimpsed our dark Philosopher at work once again. He goes hooded—this explains why I have not been able to see his face. Perhaps he is pox-marked, or burned in an Alchemical mishap. A gray goose-quill bobbed in the gloom next to his shoulder as he stain’d page after page of a Waste-book with ink. Later the curtain was dropp’d again, and my view replaced with dim flickerings that lasted until 11:12:30.