Aubyn's belongs to the world. Such a mind is part of the general
fund of thought. It's the penalty of greatness--one becomes a
monument historique. Posterity pays the cost of keeping one up,
but on condition that one is always open to the public."

"I don't see that that exonerates the man who gives up the keys of
the sanctuary, as it were."

"Who WAS he?" another voice inquired.

"Who was he? Oh, nobody, I fancy--the letter-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."