Showing posts with label languid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label languid. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Complete with a fly-whisk



. . . he was a languid, amiable young haw-haw named Twentyman, a Hussar, complete with fly-whisk and followed by a chico* with a bucket of camphorated water whose duty it was to supply his master with wet clouts to sponge away the dust.


* Native Child


Flashman on the March, p.29, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.



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Wednesday, 31 January 2007

A hell of a swell

I asked him what he meant by plunging.

'Oh,' he says, 'a plunger is a fellow who makes a great turnout, don't you know, and leaves cards at the best houses, and is sought by the mamas, and strolls in the Park very languid, and is just a hell of a swell generally. Sometimes they even condescend to soldier a little - when it doesn't interfere with their social life.'





Flashman, p. 33, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.


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