shouted a
loud
voice. He
raised his
head. The
porter was
standing
at the
door of
his little
room and
was
pointing
him out to
a short
man who
looked
like an
artisan,
wearing a
long coat
and a
waistcoat,
and
looking at
a distance
remarkably
like a
woman. He
stooped,
and his
head in a
greasy cap
hung
forward.
From his
wrinkled
flabby
face he
looked
over
fifty; his
little
eyes were
lost in
fat and
they
looked out
grimly,
sternly
