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. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. “Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. And, though the villain can't see his orders executed, I've no doubt some one else will.
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