She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. 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 vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly.
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