“Because, see, any amount of intimate there would be, you know—” Chelsea wrung her hands frantically. “Squick.” “I don’t know,” Lucy said loyally, raising the flag for the backlash to the backlash. “I mean, come on, guys. He’s only what—forty?” “He’s thirty,” Plum said. “Sorry. It’s hard to tell with the, you know, the hair. I just meant that we’re not in Humbert Humbert territory here.”
―
Lev Grossman,
The Magician's Land