” She cried once they were in the great room. " "Ask them, all of them, and I will gladly answer. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf. I believe it amused him.
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