I have not found, however, that people mind them much.
The poor boarder in bombazine is my dynamometer.

I try every questionable proposition on her.

If she winces, I must be prepared for an outcry from the other old women.

I frightened her, the other day, by saying that faith, as an intellectual state, was self-reliance, which, if you have a metaphysical turn, you will find is not so much of a paradox as it sounds at first.

So she sent me a book to read which was to cure me of that error.