Momo tucked her bare feet under her skirt and burrowed still deeper into her oversize jacket.
“The first question to consider,” pursued the man in gray, “is how much your friends really gain from the fact of your existence.”
“Are you any practical use to them? No. Do you help them to get on in the world, make more money, make something of their lives?”
No again. Do you assist them in their efforts to save time? On the contrary, you distract them -
you're a millstone around their necks and an obstacle to their progress.
You may not realize it, Momo, but you harm your friends by simply being here.
Without meaning to be, you're really their enemy. Is that what you call love?”
Momo didn't know what to say. She'd never looked at things that way.
She even wondered, for one brief moment, whether the man in gray might not be right after all.
“And that,” he went on, “is why we want to protect your friends from you. If you really love them, you'll help us.”
“We have their interests at heart, so we want them to succeed in life.
We can't just look on idly while you distract them from everything that matters.”
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