The latter was clean-shaven and had a broken nose, and wore a little round, soft felt hat.

The dwarf was facing me.

As he caught sight of me a smile of welcome overspread his Napoleonic features.

He rose, awaited my approach, and, bareheaded, made his usual sweeping bow, which he concluded by resting his silk hat on the pit of his stomach.

I lifted my hat politely and would have passed on, but he stood in my path.