One Hundred Years of Solitude

however, was already tainted
with rancor. But by then her
acceptance of her fate was so
deep that she was not even
upset by the certainty that all
possibilities of rectification
were closed to her. Her only
objective was to finish the
shroud. Instead of slowing it
down with useless detail as
she had done in the
beginning, she speeded up the
work. One week before she
calculated that she would take