Donald Campbell, A journey over land to India
“ Fury predominated, but it was risible fury—it was fury that rather grinned than frowned; though under it were to be seen shame and mortification, sorrow and resentment, pride and degradation, silly bashfulness and decayed importance. For some time he stood transfixed to the spot, his eyes glistening like those of a rat in a trap; his pointed whiskers moving with the contortions of his lips, and his mouth every now and then opening like the beak of a wounded hawk. To utter his sensations he was unable ”
