I am as quiet at home as I am vivacious outside it.
I am especially unobtrusive when I’m ill: silent, sleepy, and always in my room.
I’m finding it very difficult, therefore, to stay home with the ill great-aunt, who feels compelled to keep up a sociable chatter whenever I’m in the same room (which is all the time, since she’s on my bed). I wish there was a polite way of telling her she needn’t exert herself so, because I find this scattered, stilted conversation as intrusive as she probably finds it tiring. But there isn’t.
Politeness, my good friend Kaichu frequently predicts, will be the death of me, someday.
(But at least I shall be civil about it.)