It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. 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. She is no more English than that set of beggars over there. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind.
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