And you see, I don’t turn my back, and I am looking at you and thinking about you from top to toe. ‘Comment? What do you wish?’ ‘What the devil do you think you’re up to now, I’d like to know?’ Her eyes flashed. 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. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. I'll see her myself; and that's more than she bargained for, I'll be sworn. Strangers look in and long, and neighbours are moved to envy.
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