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. ” “My God!” said Teddy, more impressively than ever. Woof! What a dog. \"Hey, you dudes!\" The word dude coming from Michelle's mouth suited her just about as well as the word \"gnarly\" suited Winston Churchill.
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