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His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. ‘I was just looking the place over when I heard you calling out. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. I want to get away—to go to London. At least for one moment, it was. I wonder. 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. “Why?” He inquired. ’ ‘But it’s my affair, Melusine. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame.
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