\" He said to her as he threw the gear into Park. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. . " "It's all so big and aloof. She reached for the door handle. 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. They took their places at a distant table.
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