Wolf Solent - pg. 68

Dressed in neat, dark-blue serge, Jason Otter had the quiet, self-composed air of a much-travelled man of the world. His clean-shaven face, framed by prematurely grey hair, was massively and yet abnormally expressive. Forehead and chin were imposing and commanding; but his effort was diminished and almost negated by the peculiar kind of restless misery displayed in the lines of the mouth. The man's eyes were large and greay; and instead of glancing aside in the way Darnley's did, they seemed to cry out for help without cessation or intermission.