Augustinovich did not know him.
The most important notable trait of the newly arrived was a velvet sack-coat and light-colored trousers; besides, he was washed, shaven, and combed. His face was neither stupid nor clever, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither kind nor malicious, moreover he was neither tall nor of low stature. His nose, mouth, chin, and forehead were medium; special marks he had none.
"Does Pan Yosef Shvarts live here?"
"It is certain that he lives here."
"Is it possible to see him?"
"It is possible at this time; but in the night, when it is very dark, the case is different."
The newly arrived began to lose patience; but Augustinovich's face expressed rather gladness than malice.
"The owner of this house sent me to Pan Yosef as to a man who knows the address and the fate of Countess Leocadia N———. Could you give me some explanations as to her?"
"Oh yes, she is very nice!"
"That is not the question."
"Just that, indeed. Were I to answer that she is as ugly as night, would you be curious to make her acquaintance? No, no, by the prophet!"
