‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. “Come in. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. His room was last at the end of one winding corner. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. 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. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man.
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