



Lionel
Audrey was a medium-height man with thinning brown hair.
He wore a heavy wool suit, but he had removed the coat. Perspiration
salted his brow and made his face glisten. Audrey looked
young, but his eyes were surrounded by wrinkles. He squinted
out from under his thick glasses as if the glass wasn’t the
right prescription, or as if he sought to penetrate further than
just the surface. In spite of this impression, Audrey’s attitude
was breezy and facile. He didn’t speak; he lectured in an
arrogant Oxford accent.