"Still, it's what we came here for," I pointed out. "No, no bacon, thanks; a small piece of dry toast."
"I suppose the machine couldn't have made a mistake?"
"It seemed very decided about it. It didn't hesitate at all."
"Just try again after breakfast to make sure."
"Perhaps I'd better try now," I said, getting up, "because if I turned out to be only twenty-stone-six I might venture on a little porridge after all. I shan't be long."
I went upstairs. I didn't dare face that weighing-machine in my clothes after the way in which I had already strained it without them. I took them off hurriedly and stepped on. To my joy the bar stayed in its downward position. I took off an ounce … then another ounce. The bar remained down….
At eighteen-stone-two I jumped off for a moment in order to shut the window, which some careless housemaid had opened again….
At twelve-stone-seven I shouted through the door to Celia that I shouldn't be long, and that I should want the porridge after all….
At four-stone-six I said that I had better have an egg or two as well.
At three ounces I stepped off, feeling rather shaken.