Let us assume that her work involves doing sums (she is an accountant), or writing (she is an author or scrivener), or visiting clients instead of waiting in an office to receive them (she is a doctor). It is evident that if she can spare money enough to buy an adding-machine which will enable her to do the work of three ordinary bookkeepers, or a sewing-machine, or a typewriter, or a bicycle, or a motor car, as the case may be, the machine will enable her to get through so much more work every day that she will be able to earn more money with them than without them. The machine will be carelessly called her capital (most people muddle themselves with that mistake when they discuss economics); but the capital was the money saved to pay for the machine, and as it was eaten up by the workers who made the machine, it no longer exists. What does exist is the machine, which is continually wearing out, and can never be sold secondhand for its price when new. Its value falls from year to year until it falls to nothing but the value of the old iron of which it is made. Now suppose she marries, thus changing her profession for that of wife, mother, housekeeper, and so forth! Or suppose that the introduction of an electric tram service, and the appearance of plenty of taxis in the streets, enable her to do all the travelling she wants as well and more cheaply than her private car! What is she to do with her adding-machine or sewing-machine, her typewriter or her car? She cannot eat them or wear them on her back. The adding-machine will not iron shirt fronts: the sewing-machine will not fry eggs: the typewriter will not dust the furniture: the motor car, for all its marvels, will not wash the baby.