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. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. She stood up before him, smiling faintly. "Souls," she answered, drily. She was quite a beauty, all in white, and I can still see how much you resemble her.
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