THE TOUCHSTONE
box, the slit in the wall through which the letters passed to posterity. . . ."
"But she never meant them for posterity!"
"A woman shouldn't write such letters if she doesn't mean them to be published. . . ."
"She shouldn't write them to such a man!" Mrs. Touchett scornfully corrected.
"I never keep letters," said Mrs. Armiger, under the obvious impression that she was contributing a valuable point to the discussion.
There was a general laugh, and Flamel, who had not spoken, said lazily, "You women are too incurably subjective. I venture to say that most men would see in those letters merely their immense literary value, their significance as documents. The personal side doesn't count where there's so much else."
"Oh, we all know you haven't any principles," Mrs. Armiger declared; and Alexa Glennard, lifting an indolent smile, said: "I shall never write you a love-letter, Mr. Flamel."
Glennard moved away impatiently. Such talk was
[ 71 ]
