There hung about him the atmosphere of infinite, sorrowful patience that might mark a Polish patriot.

As the runner of a successful fried fish concern he was an incongruity.

As well, thought Paul, picture the late Cardinal Newman sharpening knife on steel outside a butcher's shop, and crying, "buy, buy," in lusty invitation.
Then Paul noticed that he was oddly apparelled.

He wore the black frock-coat suit of a Methodist preacher at the same time as the rainbow tie, diamond tie-pin, heavy gold watch-chain, diamond ring and natty spats of a professional bookmaker.

The latter oddities, however, did not detract from the quiet, mournful dignity of his face and manner.
Paul felt himself in the presence of an original personality.
The maid came in and laid a fourth place.