"As far as Swamis are concerned," I told her, "the debt we owe to them in incalculable. Where, for instance, would we have ever heard of Karma if it had not been for the Swamis?"
She couldn't answer; she just looked stubborn; unadvanced people always look stubborn and glare.
"Where," I said, "did we get the Vedantas and
Vegetarianism and Alternate Breathing from?"
She couldn't say a word. She just pouted.
"Who taught us," I said, "Transmigration of
Souls and Vibrations?"
She broke down and cried.
"Hermione," she said, "I simply HATE howdahs and cobras and swastikas and all those Oriental things!"
Mamma has no idea whatever of logic. She is a typical old-fashioned woman.
"Mamma," I said, "cry as much as you like. You shall not disturb MY inner Harmony! I will not permit you to. And my mind is made up. I will take up the Twilight Sleep in a serious way!"
That settled it, too.