The Invisible Man

by H.G. Wells

The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. He was wrapped up from head to foot, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid every inch of his face but the shiny tip of his nose;

parlour and began to lay them with the utmost éclat.

bush side-whisker over his coat-collar that completely hid his cheeks and face.