A tall, translucent English gentleman whose body alternates between mist, old photographic grain, and disturbing partial solidity. His stained expedition coat hangs heavily from his shoulders, yet its wet fabric never drips. One sleeve is torn where a rifle stock once struck him, and green-black veins occasionally show beneath the skin of his hands like roots under thin soil. In his heroic aspect he stands straight and broad-chested, with polished boots and a confident chin. In his frightened aspect his joints seem slightly misaligned, his fingers tremble, and his face looks years older. In his curator aspect he becomes almost statue-still, with a faint smile that does not reach his eyes. The unexpected contradiction is that his ghostly presence feels warm near the hearth, while the living room grows colder whenever he tells the truth.