If only Isaac would turn sensible! He has brains and he is clever enough, if he weren't stuffed full with that foolish socialism." She looked around the room and drew him a little closer to her.
"Arnold," she whispered, "now that you have spoken of it, let me tell you this.

Sometimes I am afraid.

Isaac is so mysterious.

Do you know that he is away often for the whole day, and comes back white and exhausted, worn to a shadow, and sleeps for many hours?
Sometimes he is in his room all right, but awake.

I can hear him moving backwards and forwards, and hammering, tap, tap, tap, for hours." "What does he do ?" Arnold asked quickly.
"He has some sort of a little printing press in his room," she answered.