Miss Flanders is not my duty. Except— Isn’t she a citizen of the land? Doesn’t she deserve my care? And isn’t she, in some small way, my friend? Can I leave her wandering? And do I not love her? My feet still beneath me. Do I not love her? My heart beats erratically. I cannot—I should not—I must not love Miss Flanders. To love her would be inappropriate, injudicious, undutiful, irresponsible.
