Sheppard. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. Mr. 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. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. He looked half at her and half at the sky. İşine olan bağlılığı ve yetenekleri, hızla dikkat çekti.
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