He had a short, bull neck and long, mighty arms.

His face, with the heavy jaw and small eyes, was the face of the typical fighting man, yet his features seemed to have become disposed by habit into an expression of gentle, almost servile civility.
"Meekins," Mr.Fentolin said, "a visitor has arrived.

Do you happen to have noticed what luggage he brought ?" "There is one small dressing-case, sir," the man replied; "nothing else that I have seen." "That is all we brought," Gerald interposed.
"You will bring the dressing-case here at once," Mr.Fentolin directed, "and also my compliments to Doctor Sarson, and any pocket-book or papers which may help us to send a message to the gentleman's friends." Meekins closed the door and departed.

Mr.Fentolin turned back towards his nephew.
"My dear boy," he said, "tell me why you look as though there were ghosts flitting about the room?
You are not ill, I trust ?" "Tired, perhaps," Gerald answered shortly.

"We were many hours in the car.