Commonplace Book

'"Come on," she said gently - with two melted drops sliding to the fore of the teaspoon.

The drying bubbles of the last fit stayed on the cat's whiskers and the tip of its tongue looked trapped in its own teeth. Jane's little finger could not get in.

Life in it seemed centred only in the lungs and trying, heaving, to get out.

She put away the spoon, finally, and stood up. She moved the paraffin lamp nearer the wood. She looked down and it is, in a sense, no exaggeration to say she looked down, not at the cat dying, but at herself dying - and at that instant the character of her eyes assumed for a tranced moment[,] the character of the sea.'

from A Share of the World by Hugo Charteris (Part Two, Chapter 17)