He was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat.

He was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness.

A broad wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl.

A shock of very bright red hair grew low over his eyes and forehead.
"He's a beauty, isn't he ?" said the inspector.
"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes.

"I had an idea that he might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me." He opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my astonishment, a very large bath-sponge.
"He! he! You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector.
"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable figure." "Well, I don't know why not," said the inspector.