His face was entirely shaved and was deeply marked with lines and furrows.

A pair of piercing grey eyes looked through big gold-rimmed spectacles.

As he took off his hat, a few thin, sandy-coloured locks fluttered a little and then settled themselves upon the smooth surface of his cranium, like autumn leaves falling upon a marble statue in a garden.
"Herr Fischelowitz ?" inquired the larger of the two customers, touching his hat but not removing it.
"At your service," answered the tobacconist.

"Cigarettes ?" he inquired.
"Strong?
Light?
Kir, Samson, Dubec ?" "I am the new Russian Consul," said the stranger.

"This gentleman is just arrived from Petersburg and has business with you." "My name is Konstantin Grabofsky, and I am a lawyer," observed the little man very sharply.
Fischelowitz bowed till his nose almost came into collision with the counter.