The change into something loose. The well-earned dinner. The quiet evening. Bed. That was the year in, year out routing of a man like Chichester Clam, Sundays and holidays excepted, and it was one ill calculated to fit him for the raw excitements and jungle conditions of Steeple Bumpleigh.
Steeple Bumpleigh must have come upon him as a totally new experience, causing him to wonder what had hit him - like a man who, stooping to pluck a nosegay of wild flowers on a railway line, is unexpectedly struck in the small of the back by the Cornish Express.
(from Jeeves In the Morning, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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