When her father gave her Fabian
Society tracts to read, he might just as well, for all her
understanding of the argument, set her down to a Treatise on the
Infinitesimal Calculus. Her brain stood blank before such abstract
disquisitions. She loved easily comprehended poetry and novels
that made her laugh or cry and set her mind dancing round the
glowing possibilities of life; all disastrous stuff abhorred by
the International Socialist, to whom the essential problems of
existence are of no interest whatever. So, after a few futile
attempts to darken her mind, Gedge put her down as a mere fool
woman, and ceased to bother his head about her intellectual
development. That came to him quite naturally. There is no Turk
more contemptuous of his womankind's political ideas than the
Gedges of our enlightened England. But on other counts she was a
distinct asset. He regarded her with immense pride, as a more
ornamental adjunct to his house than any other county builder and
contractor could display, and, recognising that she was possessed
of some low feminine cunning in the way of adding up figures and
writing letters, made use of her in his office as general clerical
factotum.
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