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. He had looked at it before without comprehension. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. Mrs. ” He recognized the force, almost the passion, which trembled in her tone, and he at once abandoned the subject. " Ah Cum smiled. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. A very small settlement, mostly natives. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken floor. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time.
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