I shrink morbidly from visiting strange houses.

I shrink from the unknown discomforts and trivial humiliations they may hold for me.

I hate, for instance, not to know what kind of a chair may be provided for me to sit on.

I hate to be carried up many stairs even by my steel-crane of a Marigold.

Just try doing without your legs for a couple of days, and you will see what I mean.