You don't have to let it be a taskmaster."
"I'd like to learn ologies, doctor. I'd like to learn to the roots of
things. All the things I know--legends, history, poetry, haven't any
roots at all. Professor Kraill's a biologist, isn't he?"
"Well, yes--rather a heterodox one, but he's getting believed now. But
how on earth did you know?" he said, turning on her in surprise.
"There was an advertisement of a book of his lectures. It was called
'Questing Cells' and father got it. I had to read it to him--with a
dictionary at almost every line, because I didn't understand it. It
showed me that, though I am muddled now, there is such a thing as
clearness in the world. It seemed to me that if I knew all the things
Professor Kraill knows things might be like a crystal ball--all the
things in the world, you know, beautifully clear and rounded off. I read
a lot of books to father after that and got muddled again. But I never
lost the feel of Professor Kraill's book. I couldn't tell you a word of
it now, but it's like the memory of a most beautiful music. I love him.
I'd love to hear him--to see him. He's the wisest man in the world."
"Heaven forbid!" said the doctor, laughing a little.
"Why? Don't you admire him?"
"Immensely, though he's heterodox. But he's just what I was saying
to you just now--an example of a man who isn't the Trinity.
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