He looked like a drawing from a men’s magazine, fastidiously groomed, a white handkerchief in the breast pocket of his dark suit.
He wrinkled his nose fastidiously, in self-mockery.
It had a fastidious jacket of midnight blue with plain silver letters and a silver pyramid in one corner.
She watched the air of fastidious elegance around her.
He had no distaste for modern architecture and built cheerfully, when a rare client asked for it, bare boxes with flat roofs, which he called progressive; he built Roman mansions which he called fastidious; he built Gothic churches which he called spiritual.
Francon asked Keating in the rose-lit satin-stuffed rooms of the A.G.A., wrinkling his nose with fastidious amusement.
He thought that things like this could not be done in such a place; the fastidious magnificence made it monstrous; he wished it were a dank cellar.
The terror came from that plate, not from the fastidious monster across the table; the rest of the room was warm and safe.
Her dress—the color of water, a pale green-blue, too simple and expensive, its pleats exact like edges of glass—her thin heels planted wide apart on the boulders, the smooth helmet of her hair, the exaggerated fragility of her body against the sky—flaunted the fastidious coolness of the gardens and drawing rooms from which she came.
Wynand wrinkled his nose fastidiously.
It was not a positive stand rationally taken; not defiance in the name of a cause of importance; just a fastidious feeling, something pertaining almost to chastity: the hesitation one feels before putting one’s foot down into muck.
This was just like Toohey, thought Keating; this pose amidst the severe fastidiousness of his living room; a single canvas by a famous artist on the wall behind him—and the rest of the room unobtrusive like a monk’s cell; no, thought Keating, like the retreat of a king in exile, scornful of material display.
There are no more uses of "fastidious" in the book.