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. “You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-09-2024 10:29:21