She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. "The end is the most beautiful in English literature. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. This I have sworn to do—this I will do. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. He'll settle it bravely. Strangers look in and long, and neighbours are moved to envy. It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother.
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