All his dreams shattered in an instant. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. Anna left the room on tiptoe. She hesitated. Or become a thorough-going typist and stenographer and secretarial expert. B. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. 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. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like.
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