There was strength in every line of her, too, for all her femininity – by George, I couldn’t remember when I’d seen bouncers like those, thrusting like pumpkins against the muslin of her blouse, which was open to the jeweled clasp at her breastbone – if it hadn’t been for a couple of discreetly embroidered flowers on either side, there would have been nothing at all to hide. I could only stand speechless before such queenly beauty, wondering what it would be like to tear the muslin aside, thrust your whikers in between ’em, and go brrrrr!
Flashman in the Great Game, p.79, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.
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