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More from P.G. Wodehouse

Unseen, in the background, Fate was quietly slipping the lead into the boxing-glove.

Very Good, Jeeves (1930)

The fishy glitter in his eye became intensified. He looked like a halibut which had been asked by another halibut to lend it a couple of quid till next Wednesday.

The Word in Season

He had the look of an ostrich that had swallowed a door knob.

He blinked, like some knight of King Arthur’s court, who, galloping to perform a deed of derring-do, has had the misfortune to collide witha tree.

It is no use telling me there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof.

The Code of the Woosters