“Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. 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. "I shall state my suspicions to the governor. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate.
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