Mr Neville Fletcher

... a willowy young man in an ill-fitting dinner-jacket suit, who paused on the threshold, blinked long-lashed eyelids at the sight of a police- man, and smiled deprecatingly. 'Oh, sorry!' said the newcomer. 'Fancy finding you here!' His voice was low-pitched, and he spoke softly and rather quickly, so that it was difficult to catch what he said. A lock of lank dark hair fell over his brow; he wore a pleated shirt, and a deplorable tie, and looked, to P.C. Glass, like a poet.
(ch. i)