The back, spreading to the farthest limits of the shiny seams of the coat, was like a wall.

The thighs were pillows, the arms bolsters and yet not fat, mind you, simply muscle, all of it.

One could see in a minute that it was all muscle, the chest thrust forward, the legs spread wide, the bull-neck bursting the handkerchief, everything that Jeremy himself most wished to be.

A sailor, a monument of strength, with the scent of his "shag" strong enough to smell a mile away, and--yes, most marvellous of all, gold rings in his ears! His chest would be tatooed probably, and perhaps his legs also! There, on the back of his hand, was a blue anchor....

Jeremy looked up and trembled lest the vision should fade, then flung a hurried look around him to see whether Miss Jones were near.