They were now both in a state of unprecedented physical fitness. 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. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. It was the first expression of the mother's blood.
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