She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. 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. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. It shall be the bludgeon. “I’ll buy a new one. ” They eyed her incredulously.
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