His eyes followed them until they disappeared around a corner.

Down in his heart he hoped that Ruth would not deny him a fleeting look of encouragement and approval.
Landover carried himself like a soldier.

He was tall, well set-up, and almost offensively erect.

He was a handsome man of perhaps forty-eight.
His cleanshaven face was firm, aggressive, domineering.

There was not a trace of grey in his dark hair.