"I can't follow your developments.
I can't keep touch. It was what happened with Freder--"
She broke off and looked frightened.
"The whole idea of our coming here," she went on again, as Lotty
didn't seem to have noticed, "was to get away, wasn't it? Well, we've
got away. And now, after only a single day of it, you want to write to
the very people--"
She stopped.
"The very people we were getting away from," finished Lotty.
"It's quite true. It seems idiotically illogical. But I'm so happy,
I'm so well, I feel so fearfully wholesome. This place--why, it makes
me feel flooded with love."
And she stared down at Rose in a kind of radiant surprise.
Rose was silent a moment. Then she said, "And do you think it
will have the same effect on Mr. Wilkins?"
Lotty laughed. "I don't know," she said. "But even if it
doesn't, there's enough love about to flood fifty Mr. Wilkinses, as you
call him. The great thing is to have lots of love about. I don't
see," she went on, "at least I don't see here, though I did at home,
that it matters who loves as long as somebody does. I was a stingy
beast at home, and used to measure and count. I had a queer obsession
about justice. As though justice mattered. As though justice can
really be distinguished from vengeance.
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