Berry was speaking again.

"Wait half a minute, and we'll change over." He turned to Adèle. "Will
you sit in front with Boy?"

As the change was being made, Mr. Dunkelsbaum advanced.

I have seldom set eyes upon a less prepossessing man. To liken him to a
vicious over-fed pug is more than charitable. Smug, purse-proud and
evil, his bloated countenance was most suggestive. There was no pity
about the coarse mouth, which he had twisted into a smile, two deep
sneer lines cut into the unwholesome pallor of his cheeks, from under
drooping lids two beady eyes shifted their keen appraising glance from
me to Berry and, for a short second, to Adèle. There was about him not a
single redeeming feature, and for the brute's pompous carriage alone I
could have kicked him heartily.

The clothes were like unto the man.

From beneath a silk-faced overcoat, which he wore unbuttoned, the rich
contour of a white waistcoat thrust its outrageous way, spurning the
decent shelter of a black tail-coat and making the thick striped legs
look shorter than ever. A diamond pin winked in the satin tie, and a
black bowler hat and patent-leather boots mercifully covered, the one
his crown, and the others his short fat feet.

My gentleman raised his hat and removed a cigar from his mouth before
speaking in a thick voice and with a strong foreign accent.