unearths some literary gems.
From Mr. Pinkerton Goes to Scotland Yard, by David Frome:
Mr. Pinkerton straightened his steel-rimmed spectacles with the air of a man about to mind his own business.
...eyes that contracted wickedly, like an old parrot's preparing to swear dreadfully in front of the parson.
[Not Sure Whether the Pun Was Intended dept.]
"His father's a fur dealer. I've always excused the lad on that account. He's so frightfully fuzzy."
To all outward signs Bull was unaware of his presence, and the little Welshman was worried about it. He knew he was actually there, because he had seen himself reflected in the windows of a tailor's shop in Chancery Lane....So it couldn't be that.