Almost perfect novels are rare, so it is always an unexpected pleasure when I discover one. Mary McGarry Morris' A Dangerous Woman is one of those finds. I consider it close to perfect becauses Morris mines the turf she has chosen to write about expertly and exquisitely. She depicts people the way they are and society the way it is. Not how either should be, but how they are. That is the penultimate achievement in writing fiction.

Martha Horgan thrives on routines or falls aparts. For her, everything must fit into patterns. Pencils and pens, books and lunch money had to be aligned just so on her desk when she was in school. Everything has a ritual. Before saying anything she considers significant, she must tap her chest several times and take a certain number of breaths. She believes in telling what she thinks is the truth — even when doing so will serve no beneficial purpose. She is chronically unable to distinguish between what really matters and what doesn't.

As if these traits were not enough, Martha hates children, a characteristic bound to get a person in trouble in most societies. Perhaps it is because, in the atavistic way they have, they sense her difference from normal people right away and question her or mock her immediately. That results in mutual tormenting that has a 32-year old swatting four-year-olds or throwing rocks at adolescents while walking down the street. Most of the residents of her Vermont town consider Martha, a difficult, even evil, person to be avoided.

Though it is never named in A Dangerous Woman, Martha's symptoms match those of autism, most likely the condition known as Asperger Syndrome. Unable to find any useful treatment for the disorder, Martha's rich aunt, Frances, has given up on resolving her problems. They coexist in a lifestyle characterized by Martha's surliness and punctuated by Martha's ungovernable tantrums.

The status quo changes when Martha runs away from home after one of her emotional explosions. She obtains a job at a drycleaners and a room in a boarding house. And, for the first time, Martha has a friend — Birdy, the manager of drycleaners. Martha becomes a model employee in an environment where routine is key. No one fills out tickets as accurately or remembers to collect the free shirt coupon as well as she does.

However, Martha's achievement is short-lived. Her affection can be as overwhelming and suffocating as her contempt. It is not long before Birdy colludes with the owner of the cleaners in getting rid of Martha. They falsely accuse her of having stolen money from the till. Chastened, Martha returns to her aunt's house. But, she doesn't give up. Her obsessiveness will not allow her to. Birdy is forced to change her phone number to unlisted after Martha calls her relentlessly, sometimes hundreds of times each day. Martha also stalks the woman she considers her only friend and sends her an avalanche of letters through an intermediary. Totally out of touch with the way the world works, Martha believes she can regain Birdy's trust by telling the truth: The real thief is Birdy's boyfriend, Getso.