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“Willy - red and shining, his spectacles bemisted, voice glutinous, alcohol sweating from every pore - had sung what he called an old English madrigal in his harsh, thick Scots; at the end he had walloped down, like a porpoise stranded by the tide, on the sofa where Mary sat, and given her a succulent porpoiseful kiss on the nape of the neck. It had been a good turn and everybody had laughed.” — Ann Scott-Moncrieff
Willy - red and shining, his spectacles bemisted, voice glutinous, alcohol sweating from every pore - had sung what he called an old English madrigal in his harsh, thick Scots; at the end he had walloped down, like a porpoise stranded by the tide, on the sofa where Mary sat, and given her a succulent porpoiseful kiss on the nape of the neck. It had been a good turn and everybody had laughed.