She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. 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. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. She knew now that he never would. “What I mean is. " He paused, and not without malice.
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