From beneath the blanket she turned a vivid, furious eye on her husband. She was trying to give him rheumatism and toothache and lockjaw all at once. If she had been satisfied to concentrate her attention on one only of these torments she might have succeeded in afflicting her husband according to her wish, but she was not able to do that. Finality is death. Perfection is finality.
Nothing is perfect.
The text of this work is in the public domain and is not copyrighted. However, the HTML tags and other computer code used to create this presentation are Copyright 2000 by Litrix Reading Room. It may not be reproduced, reposted or otherwise distributed without written permission of Litrix Reading Room.