She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. I guess they were bad all the time. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. 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.
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