Though not in appearance robust, he wore a moustache that would not have disgraced a Cossack, his eyes were small, gray, and near together, and his complexion was bad.

His feet were minute, and his hands bony.
He took the offered chair, and Claudius sat down upon the bed, which was by no means so far removed in the little room as to make conversation at that distance difficult.
"Dr.Claudius ?" the stranger repeated, and the Doctor nodded gravely.
"Dr.Claudius, the nephew of the late Mr.Gustavus Lindstrand of New York ?" "The same, sir.

May I inquire to what good fortune I am indebted--" "Oh! of course," interrupted the other, "I am Mr.Barker--Silas B.
Barker junior of New York, and my father was your uncle's partner." "Indeed," said Claudius, rising and coming forward, "then we must shake hands again," and his face wore a pleasant expression.

He thought nothing of first impressions, and was prepared to offer a hearty welcome to any friend of his uncle, even of the most unprepossessing type.

Mr.
Barker was not exactly unprepossessing; he was certainly not handsome, but there was a look of action about him that was not unpleasing.
Claudius felt at once, however, that the American belonged to a type of humanity of which he knew nothing as yet.