Daily Pym

That day the four of them went to the library, though at different times. The library assistant, if had noticed them at all, would have seen them as people who belonged together in some way. They each in turn noticed him; with his shoulder-length golden hair. Their disparaging comments on its length, its luxuriance, its general unsuitability — given the job and the circumstances — were no doubt reflections on the shortcomings of their own hair.

— Quartet in Autumn, chapter one