He was a rather tall man, of sallow complexion, with greyish hair.

The peculiarly melancholy expression of his face was due to the excessive drooping of his eyelids under rounded brows; beneath the eyes were heavy lines; he generally looked like one who has passed through a night of sleepless grief.

He wore a suit of black, which had for several years been his reserve attire, till it grew too seamy for use on Sundays.

The whole look of the man was saddening; to pass him in the street as a stranger was to experience a momentary heaviness of heart.
He had very long slender fingers--Emily's matchless hand in a rudimentary form--and it seemed to be a particular solicitude to keep them scrupulously clean; he frequently examined them, and appeared to have a pleasure in handling things in a dainty way--the pages of a book, for instance.

When he smiled it was obviously with effort--a painful smile, for all that an exceedingly gentle one.