He came out of the house and started to walk in the direction of the lake. She hailed him and he turned, and as he drew near the look on his face brought all the maternal instinct in her to life. It was the face of a man so weighed down with weight of woe that one wondered how he could navigate. His aspect reminded her of her husband on mornings of bygone January the firsts, when the late Mr. Clayborne, owing to his habit of seeing the new year in, had never been at his most robust.
(From The Girl in Blue, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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