And there, to Netherton’s considerable satisfaction, behind the semiperformative tipsiness, was the fear Lowbeer induced, a visible rictus. "Wouldn’t think of it," Westmarch said. His hand looked poised to tug a forelock he entirely lacked, his hair having been cut extremely short up the sides, to the very top of his head, where it was arranged in low blond waves, like some Viennese dessert.