Any one would have instantly marked him for an American by the nervous stride, the impatience at being obstructed.
I went into the fire-room, intending to give him a little surprise.

I did not have long to wait.

The door to the main office opened and he came in, singing a snatch from a drinking song we used to sing at college.

The rich baritone that had once made the old glee club famous was a bit husky and throaty.

I heard him unlock his desk and roll back the lid.