From it he was given both a view of the street and a fair survey of the apartment itself.

No one approached him; his atmosphere was repellant; beyond civil nods, curtailed to the last limit of civility, his intercourse with his fellows had not advanced.
On this afternoon as Richard smoked a solitary cigar and reviewed the thin procession of foot passengers trudging through the snow beneath his window, he was attracted by the loud talk of a coterie about a table.
The center of the group was Count Storri--a giant Russ.

This Storri did not belong to the Russian legation, did not indeed reside in town, and had been vouched into the club by one of his countrymen.

He had onyx eyes, with blue-black beard and mustaches which half covered his face, and hair as raven as his beard.

Also he valued himself for that a favorite dish with him was raw meat chopped fine with peppers and oil.
Storri's education--which was wide--did not suffice to cover up in him the barbarian, videlicet, the Tartar--which was wider; and when a trifle uplifted of drink, it was his habit to brag profoundly in purring, snarling, half-challenging tones.