He was smoking a cigarette with the seriousness of an idler.
There was nothing about him to indicate the fact that the grey jacket covered a loaded revolver, that the white waistcoat covered a police card, or that the straw hat covered one of the most powerful intellects in Europe.
He had a large, shabby umbrella, which constantly fell on the floor.
He did not seem to know which was the right end of his return ticket.
It is many years now since this colossus of crime suddenly ceased keeping the world in a turmoil; and when he ceased, as they said after the death of Roland, there was a great quiet upon the earth.