Unfortunately, having formed the habit of thinking aloud, she did not always take care to see that there was no one in the adjoining room, and I would often hear her saying to herself: “I must not forget that I never slept a wink”⁠—for “never sleeping a wink” was her great claim to distinction, and one admitted and respected in our household vocabulary; in the morning Françoise would not “call” her, but would simply “come to” her; during the day, when my aunt wished to take a nap, we used to say just that she wished to “be quiet” or to “rest”; and when in conversation she so far forgot herself as to say “what made me wake up,” or “I dreamed that,” she would flush and at once correct herself.