From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. 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. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. Sepulchre's church, where, in compliance with an old custom, it halted. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon.
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