The man was a sinister and terrible object to look at.

His eyes glared like the eyes of a wild animal; his head was bare; his long gray hair was torn and tangled; his miserable garments hung about him in rags.

He stood in the doorway, a speechless figure of misery and want, staring at the well-spread table like a hungry dog.
Steventon spoke to him.
"Who are you ?" He answered, in a hoarse, hollow voice, "A starving man." He advanced a few steps, slowly and painfully, as if he were sinking under fatigue.
"Throw me some bones from the table," he said.

"Give me my share along with the dogs." There was madness as well as hunger in his eyes while he spoke those words.

Steventon placed Mrs.Crayford behind him, so that he might be easily able to protect her in case of need, and beckoned to two sailors who were passing the door of the boat-house at the time.
"Give the man some bread and meat," he said, "and wait near him." The outcast seized on the bread and meat with lean, long-nailed hands that looked like claws.