He came listlessly into the room, and I was pained to observe that a night's rest had effected no improvement in the unhappy wreck's appearance. Indeed, I should have said, if anything, that he was looking rather more moth-eaten than when I had seen him last. If you can visualize a bulldog which has just been kicked in the ribs and had its dinner sneaked by the cat, you will have Hildebrand Glossop as he now stood before me.
"Stap my vitals, Tuppy, old corpse," I said, concerned, "you're looking pretty blue around the rims."
(from Right Ho, Jeeves, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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