Perhaps that’s what you called him, the beautiful young man with the big arms and the dark [brown] curls. (p.7)
He was properly tall, with shoulders that looked like they could take the weight of the world and yet were exquisitely shaped. I thought immediately of that wonderful Greek boy with the broken arm in the British Museum. The way he glows with beauty and strength. (p.99)
The sight of him - glorious in the afternoon light coming through our small kitchen window - had scrambled my brain. (p.238)