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. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril.
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