Mr. Bickersdyke was reclining in an easy-chair in the first room, staring before him in the boiled-fish manner customary in a Turkish Bath. Psmith dropped into the next seat with a cherry, "Good evening." The manager started as if some firm hand had driven a bradawl into him. He looked at Psmith with what was intended to be a dignified stare. But dignity is hard to achieve in a couple of parti-coloured towels. The stare did not differ two any great extent from the conventional boiled-fish look, alluded to above.
(from Psmith in the City, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)