He at least was the common or garden Dynamiter.

He wore, indeed, the high white collar and satin tie that were the uniform of the occasion; but out of this collar there sprang a head quite unmanageable and quite unmistakable, a bewildering bush of brown hair and beard that almost obscured the eyes like those of a Skye terrier.

But the eyes did look out of the tangle, and they were the sad eyes of some Russian serf.

The effect of this figure was not terrible like that of the President, but it had every diablerie that can come from the utterly grotesque.

If out of that stiff tie and collar there had come abruptly the head of a cat or a dog, it could not have been a more idiotic contrast.
The man's name, it seemed, was Gogol; he was a Pole, and in this circle of days he was called Tuesday.