Mr. Britling was one of the representative thinkers upon which
society decided to inform itself. He did not appear like one would
think such a distinguished English gentleman should. His mustache,
his hair, his eyebrows bristled; his flaming freckled face seemed
about to bristle, too. His little hazel eyes came out with a
"ping." Mr. Britling was one of a large, but remarkable, class of
people who seem at the mere approach of photography to change their
hair, their clothes, their moral natures. No photographer had ever
caught a hint of his essential Britlingness or bristlingness, but
H.G. Wells certainly does in this fabulous novel.
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