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)