Here he changed his coat and meticulously washed his hands, to which clung a subtle blend of all the strong-smelling goods that had passed through them.

Then, coming round to the front, he sat down on the log and took out his pipe.

He made a point, no matter how brisk trade was, of not keeping open after dark.

His evenings were his own.
He sat and puffed, tranquilly.

It was a fine night.