Ann Veronica had come to the Imperial College obsessed by the great figure of Russell, by the part he had played in the Darwinian controversies, and by the resolute effect of the grim-lipped, yellow, leonine face beneath the mane of silvery hair. She had trembled on the verge of such a resolution before, but this time quite definitely she made it. I mean Miss Charvill no harm. ‘But you are idiot. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger.
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