’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. "Your sympathy is being wasted. Ali, zeki ve hırslı bir çocuktu, ancak köyü, imkansızlıklar ve sınırlamalarla doluydu. 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. Prison was beastly. "Won't be under an obligation. It is simply our point of view which is altogether different. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair.
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