“In exterior he resembled a butcher in a poor neighbourhood, and his eyes had a look of sleepy cunning. He carried his fat paunch with ostentation on his short legs, and during the time his gang infested the station spoke to no one but his nephew. You could see these two roaming about all day long with their heads close together in an everlasting confab. “This man resembled a butcher you might find in a poor neighborhood. His eyes were shifty. He had a pot belly that he rested on his short legs, and he didn’t talk to anyone but his nephew, the manager. They walked around all day together, in constant private conversation.