His is one of those unhappy moustaches that stick out straight and scanty like a cat's.

He has the slit of a letter-box mouth of the Irishman in caricature, and only half a dozen teeth spaced like a skeleton company.
Nothing will induce him to procure false ones.

It is a matter of principle.

Between the wearing of false hair and the wearing of false teeth he makes a distinction of unfathomable subtlety.

He is an obstinate beast.