“You are quite wrong. This is only a knack. All his cleverness comes from his father.”
“Oh, books! Of course, Mr. Raymond knows all about books. He’s writing one, isn’t he?”
Mrs. Raymond nodded.
“What about?”
“It’s about St. Paul’s Epistle to the Hebrews; in Greek, you know. He has been working at it for years.”
“And he’s indoors working at it now? What funny things men do!” She was silent for a while, watching Humility’s bobbins. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter just what they do. The great thing is to do it better than anyone else. Does Mr. Raymond think Taffy clever?”
“He never talks about it.”
“But he thinks so. I know; because at lessons when he says anything to Taffy it’s quite different from the way he talks to George and me. He doesn’t favour him, of course; he’s much too fair. But there’s a difference. It’s as if he expected Taffy to understand. Did Mr. Raymond teach him all those stories he knows?”
“What stories?”
“Fairy tales, and that sort of thing.”