Indeed she boycotts the construction of a setting, and when she announces that “she would go out of a window and the hotel would go into pieces” (45), she threatens to destroy the house of fiction, the very framework of the window of imagination. The suggestion of smashed glass, of a transfenestration that would let a hotel burst into pieces, plays on the topos of the destroyed mirror-image.

We got all the roofing removed, but the chimney was damaged and we discovered that some rafters had to be replaced. One step forward, two steps back. Or maybe three.

And indeed it is most happy for us that what Hippocrates saith is most true; […] That is, our whole Body is porous and transmeable, especially our Skin: for did we not freely breathe out those hurtful Atomes, […]

By the arrangement of these armhooks, it is possible for nurses to open doors while both hands are occupied.