And she, "It'll be fine fun for me, won't it, when you've killed yourself? When you've burst the top of your head off like the kitchen boiler?"
"I should have to run dry first," said Jevons.
"Well, you will, boiling away seven—eight—nine hours a day for weeks on end. Nobody else does it."
"Nobody else can do it," said Jimmy arrogantly.
"It's all very well; but if you don't burst your head open you'll get neuritis, or cramp. Look at that hand."
"Which hand?"
"Your right hand, silly." She took it and poised it from the wrist. "Look how it wobbles."
He looked.
"It does wobble a bit. Like a drunkard's. And I don't drink."
He was interested in his hand.