Blair Eggleston's was a face which even at normal times had always a certain intellectual pallor. As he listened now, this pallor became more pronounced. It was as if the young novelist had been cast to play the Demon King in a pantomine and had assumed for the purpose a light green make-up. His lower jaw drooped feebly, like a dying lily.
(from Hot Water, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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