Sherlock Holmes - Bibliophile

As I did so I struck against an elderly, deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he was carrying.
With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng.

To my astonishment it was none other than my strange old book collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of white hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged under his right arm.