” Ann Veronica started from her reverie, sat up in her chair, became attentive. There was a very white-faced youngster of eighteen who brushed back his hair exactly in Russell’s manner, and was disposed to be uncomfortably silent when he was near her, and to whom she felt it was only Christian kindness to be consistently pleasant; and a lax young man of five-and-twenty in navy blue, who mingled Marx and Bebel with the more orthodox gods of the biological pantheon. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. A fever of shame ran through her being.
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