’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. . His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. You, for instance, you live, you are not afraid to live. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. ” He said. She decided that she would try to push whatever resolve he had in the car to see where it would lead. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. 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. He followed. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself.
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