Under level black brows shone eyes of clear hazel, kindly, shrewd, a little wistful, lightly humorous; the eyes both of a doer and a dreamer.
Not more than forty I judged him to be.

A close-trimmed, pointed beard did not hide the firm chin and the clean-cut mouth.

His hair was thick and black and oddly sprinkled with white; small streaks and dots of gleaming silver that shone with a curiously metallic luster.
His right arm was closely bound to his breast.

His manner as he greeted me was tinged with shyness.

He extended his left hand in greeting, and as I clasped the fingers I was struck by their peculiar, pronounced, yet pleasant warmth; a sensation, indeed, curiously electric.
The Association's President forced him gently back into his chair.
"Dr.Goodwin," he said, turning to me, "is not entirely recovered as yet from certain consequences of his adventures.