She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. 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. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. ’ She bestowed a dazzling smile on Roding, who had reddened to the gills at these words. I wanted the magic of love. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.
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