The door opened to admit a man so unlike anything Frecks had ever seen before that she gazed at him with frank wonder. Even Worrals looked slightly startled.
He was about forty years of age, tall above the average, and extraordinarily handsome in an Oriental way. A certain portliness of figure gave him a tremendous dignity, of which he appeared to be fully conscious, for as he walked he transferred it to a swaggering carriage that in a European town would have been ludicrous. His clean-shaven face, half-way between white and brown, presented a complexion that a woman might have envied. His eyes were dark, in contrast to his hair, which was fair. His costume appeared to be more suited to the musical comedy stage than real life. Over a white silk shirt buttoned high round the throat he wore
