Dolly Molloy unquestionably took the eye. She was a spectacular blonde of the type that is always getting murdered in its step-ins in mystery stories. Her hair was golden, her eyes hazel, her lips and cheeks aflame with colour, and she carried herself with a challenging jautiness. Wolf-whistling is of course prohibited in the lobby of Barribault's Hotel, but quite a few of the visiting maharajahs looked as if they would have liked to, and it was plain that only by the exercise of the most iron self-restraint that the Texas millionaires were holding themselves in. You could see their lips puckering.
(from Ice In the Bedroom, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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