fairly bristling with an objectionable maleness
He made no attempt to resume the conversation, but stood tapping his boot with a small cane he affected, a flush high up under the puffy eyes, the corners of his mouth loosened, every aspect of the man fairly bristling with an objectionable maleness. I made believe to be busy putting stock in order, and in a minute more I could hear old Rathbone come puttering out of his corner to draw the dust cloths over the racks of ready-mady suits and, after what seemed an interminable interval, fumbling at the knobs of the safe.
— Mary Austin, A Woman of Genius (1912) : 223
Mary Hunter Austin (1868-1934), author of The Land of Little Rain (1903), Lost Borders (1909), &c., wikipedia