His face was seamed and wrinkled; his ears were big and prominent, the tips bending outward under the brim of a felt hat that was too large for him; his mouth was large, and Sanderson's impression of it was that it could not be closed far enough to conceal all the teeth, but that the lips were continually trying to stretch far enough to accomplish the feat.
Sanderson was certain it was that continual effort of the muscles of the lips that gave to his mouth its humorous expression.
The man was not over five feet and two or three inches tall, and crowning his slender body was a head that was entirely out of proportion to the rest of him.

He was not repulsive-looking, however, and a glance at his eyes convinced Sanderson that anything Providence had taken from his body had been added, by way of compensation, to his intellect.
Sanderson found it hard to resent the man's seeming impertinence.

He grinned reluctantly at him.
"Did I tell you you'd hurt my feelin's ?" he inquired.

"What oven do you think I had my head in ?" "I didn't say," grinned the little man.

"There's places that are hotter than an oven.