He was certainly a deplorable scarecrow.

A fine, polished carriage, with rubber tyres, drawn by a splendid pair of chestnuts, was driven down the side drove by a livened menial.

It drew up near the centre gates, and Nickie leaned on his hammer and waited.
The tall, dignified lady, accompanied by a short, important man in immaculate black, came along the path, and approached the open door of the vehicle.

Nickie advanced carelessly, and intercepted them.

He bowed grotesquely.
"Good day, Billy," he said, familiarly.