He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. ’ Melusine began to sag, and felt his strong arms catch her up and lift her bodily into a comforting embrace. That had shut him up for a while. Spurlock: 'tis Roundhead, sure enough.
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