He wore an open frock-coat, with much expanse of shirt-front.

The fore part of his head was bald, and the hair on each side was brushed forward over his ears in a manner which gave him a singular appearance.
His bearing was lacking in self-possession; each of his remarks was followed by a short laugh, deprecatory, apologetic.

It seemed impossible to him to remain in a state of bodily repose, even with a cup of tea in his hand he paced the room.

Constantly he consulted his watch--not that he had any special concern with the hour, but from a mere habit of nervousness.
He welcomed the visitor with warmth, at the same time obviously suppressing a smile of other than merely polite significance: then he began at once to speak of electioneering matters, and did so, pacing the carpet, for the next half hour.

Wilfrid listened with such show of interest as he could command; his thoughts were elsewhere, and weariness was beginning to oppress him.
Shortly after dinner fatigue passed the point at which it could be struggled against.