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house to house, from one member of the family to another, always being expected to be so polite, so excessively polite, with no time for the sulks and the tantrums that children were allowed to have under the shelter of their family.

I didn't read her book very thoroughly when it came out, although I read enough of it to see that it was the same story, because it embarrassed me, frankly. Any can did picture embarrasses me, always. I don't care who writes it. I'm embarrassed by Andre Gide's candid revelations, not because they are revelations of peculiar sexual behavior, but because they tell all, which seems to me is not necessary. I think he could have dropped a curtain over all of his life. It was nobody's business. It was finished. Nobody asked him. It was not necessary. He wasn't called to the stand to testify under oath. It embarrasses me to think that a human being, who has the rights of liberty, the basis of which is privacy, will so degrade himself as to expose his whole life and thinking, throw away the privacy which he's entitled to and which God gave him. Those who open themselves up to everybody you sometimes suspect of inventing some of it. At least, I do, though perhaps I am a mean thinker. It just embarrasses me.

So it embarrassed me that she should put all that in a book to be read by everybody and anybody. I had kept it