“Just because she had a cute dimple in her elbow, and because her lips were for the fellow who dared, here he was now with three deep wrinkles between his fine straight eyebrows and hot flushes of stage fright surging over his body. He even started talking to himself, a lapse he had always said was the earmark of a sheepherder going batty.”
B. M. Bower, On with the Dance (1934).
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