That's fine.

Big chap, isn't he--weighs a ton.

I'll get off right away, and my friend there will give you all you want to know.
So long." And off he went, one of his front wheels wabbling foolishly.
The policeman was not Irish or German-American.

He was therefore neither loud nor browbeating.

He was dry, quiet and accurate, and it seemed to Martin that either he didn't enjoy being dressed in a little brief authority or was a misanthrope, eager to return to his noiseless and solitary tramp under the April stars.