"It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. 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. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. ” Part 3 When Ann Veronica found herself in her father’s study that evening it seemed to her for a moment as though all the events of the past six months had been a dream. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. And, by way of checking his housekeeper's familiarity, he pointed significantly to the table. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him.
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