All
the more she fastened her grip upon the things that she could see
and hold, and these things repaid her devotion by never deceiving
her or pretending to be what they were not. She believed intensely
in forms and repetitions; she liked everything to be where she
expected it to be, people to say the things that she expected them
to say, clocks to strike at the right time, and trains to be up to
the minute. With all this she could never be called an accurate or
careful woman. She was radically stupid, stupid in the real sense of
the word, so that her mind did not grasp a new thought or fact until
it had been repeated to her again and again, so that she had no
power of expressing herself, and a deep inaccuracy about everything
and every one which she endeavoured to cover by a stream of aimless
lies that deceived no one. She would of course have been very
indignant had any one told her that she was stupid. She hated what
she called "clever people" and never had them near her if she could
help it. She was instantly suspicious of any one who liked ideas or
wanted anything changed. With all this she was of an extreme
obstinacy and a deep, deep jealousy.
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