I suppose everybody has had the experience of suddenly meeting smebody who reminded them frightfully of some fearful person. I mean to say, by way of an exaple, once when I was golfing in Scotland I saw a woman come into the hotel who was the living image of my Aunt Agatha. Probaby a very decnt sort, if I had only waited to see, but I didn't wait. I legged it that evening, utterly unable to stand the spectacle. And on another occasion I was driven out of a thoroughly festive night club because the head waiter reminded me of my Uncle Percy.
(from Carry On, Jeeves, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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