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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
131
Mrs.
James
arrived
and,
as
usual,
in
the
evening
took
the
entire
management
of
everything.
Finding
that
she
and
Carrie
were
making
some
preparations
for
table-turning,
I
thought
it
time
really
to
put
my
foot
down.
I
have
always
had
the
greatest
contempt
for
such
nonsense,
and
put
an
end
to
it
years
ago
when
Carrie,
at
our
old
house,
used
to
have
séances
every
night
with
poor
Mrs.
Fussters
(who
is
now
dead).
If
I
could
see
any
use
in
it,
I
would
not
care.
As
I
stopped
it
in
the
days
gone
by,
I
determined
to
do
so
now.
I
said:
“I
am
very
sorry
Mrs.
James,
but
I
totally
disapprove
of
it,
apart
from
the
fact
that
I
receive
my
old
friends
on
this
evening.”
Mrs.
James
said:
“Do
you
mean
to
say
you
haven’t
read
There
is
no
Birth?”
I
said:
“No,
and
I
have
no
intention
of
doing
so.”
Mrs.
James
seemed
surprised
and
said:
“All
the
world
is
going
mad
over
the
book.”
I
responded
rather
cleverly:
“Let
it.
There
will
be
one
sane
man
in
it,
at
all
events.”
Mrs.
James
said
she
thought
it
was
very
unkind,
and
if
people
were
all
as
prejudiced
as
I
was,
there
would
never
have
been
the
electric
telegraph
or
the
telephone.
I
said
that
was
quite
a
different
thing.
Mrs.
James
said
sharply:
“In
what
way,
pray—
in
what
way?”
I
said:
“In
many
ways.”
Mrs.
James
said:
“Well,
mention
one
way.”
I
replied
quietly:
“Pardon
me,
Mrs.
James;
I
decline
to
discuss
the
matter.
I
am
not
interested
in
it.”
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