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. And before Kneebone could draw his sword, he felled him to the ground with the iron bar. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. Though a thief, Jack Sheppard is a man of his word.
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