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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