The scents of the dressing-room were changed and mixed with the rich incense-like smoke, and Mama was not protesting by even so much as sniffing. That alone was enough to show that Uncle Ralph was in a class by himself. Then he was wearing tweeds, strong and tangy and almost fox-coloured, which were a little baggy here and there, but blended beautifully with the darker foxiness of Uncle Ralph’s hair and the redder foxiness of his moustache. Christopher had seldom seen a man in tweeds or without whiskers. This did even more to assure him that Uncle Ralph was someone special. As a final touch, Uncle Ralph smiled at him like a sunlight on an autumn forest.

I lied.

It only took twenty one pages. Diana Wynn Jones’s description of Uncle Ralph is exquisite, funny, and full of original detail.

redder foxiness of his moustache. Come on.

Lastly, the Brits really know how to spell moustache. Part mouse, part stash.

Get over yourself American spellcheck!

Jones, Diana Wynne. The Lives of Christopher Chant. United Kingdom: HarperCollins Publishers Limited, 2008. pg21