Please promise me you won't be vexed." "My dear Judith," said I, "my great and imperial namesake, in whose meditations I have always found ineffable comfort, tells me this: 'If anything external vexes you, take notice that it is not the thing which disturbs you, but your notion about it, which notion you may dismiss at once, if you please!' So I promise to dismiss all my notions of your disturbing communication and not to be vexed." "If there is one platitudinist I dislike more than another, it is Marcus Aurelius," said Judith.
I laughed.

It was very comfortable to sit before the fire, which protested, in a fire's cheery, human way, against the depression of the murky world outside, and to banter Judith.
"I can quite understand it," I said.

"A man sucks in the consolations of philosophy; a woman solaces herself with religion." "I can do neither," she replied, changing her attitude with an exaggerated shaking down of skirts.

"If I could, I shouldn't want to go away." "Go away ?" I echud.
"Yes.

You mustn't be vexed with me.