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. “I wonder,” said Ann Veronica at last, “if I am beautiful? I wonder if I shall ever shine like a light, like a translucent goddess?— “I wonder— “I suppose girls and women have prayed for this, have come to this—In Babylon, in Nineveh. “Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. “I shall never be able to thank you. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly.
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