It was an event to get a word out of him; wherever it was possible he answered by signs or grimaces.

He glided into his place in the morning like a ghost, and like a ghost he glided out at night and vanished.
More than that, his personal appearance was unsatisfactory.

He was slovenly in figure and habits, with a stubbly beard and unkempt hair; and although he had L150 a year his clothes were threadbare and shabby.
He seemed always hard up for money.

He did not go out, as most of us did, in the middle of the day to get lunch, but fortified himself with bread and cheese, which he brought in his pocket, and partook of mysteriously behind the lid of his desk.
Now and then I had come upon him while he was deeply engaged in writing what appeared to be private letters, and I could not help noticing that on each occasion when thus interrupted he coloured up guiltily and hid his letter hastily away in his blotting-paper.

And once or twice lately mysterious parcels had been handed to him over the counter, which he had received with a conscious air, hiding them away in his desk and carrying them home under his coat at night.
I did not at all like these oddities, and, holding the position I did, I had often debated with myself whether it was not my duty to take the manager or head cashier into my confidence on the subject.