Old Colonel Purviance, of the Chesapeake Club, for one-a big-paunched man who always wore, summer and winter, a reasonably white waistcoat and a sleazy necktie; swore in a loud voice and dropped his g's when he talked.
"Peter A Novel of Which He is Not the Hero"
F. Hopkinson Smith
It contained sleazy docks, prisons, gaming houses, and brothels.
"Our Legal Heritage, 4th Ed."
S. A. Reilly
The press in the corner still held a few clothes, threadbare and sleazy, and in the desk were some dry letters and a Business Book-at least, that's how it was marked-with lists of names, each having an occupation or task set down opposite it, I suppose the names of long-dead slaves.
"A Woman Named Smith"
Marie Conway Oemler