A playful accusation answered her. "You didn't tell me to read it!"
"I knew you would find it for yourself."
He thought this over. "That was better. Tell me, Jane: are you a socialist?"
"Mm ... yes, of course; all sensible people are."
"A member of the party?"
"I've never joined, though I've heard Kate O'Hare, and some of the local 'comrades' speak. And I went to the Debs meeting last fall."
So she was a socialist—one of the despised, reviled believers in the newer, finer creed! He had guessed it all along; the certainty as to it had played some part in the pleasure at his own mental choice. Out of a joyed heart he announced, "I'm going to join—at once! I met a member of the Adamsville local—a Mr. Duckworth——"
"I've met him,—an architect, isn't he? A dear old type!"
"That's the one. He has my application card."
"My dear boy! You're much too precipitate. You ought to read—and think—a lot first."