Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. "Here we part,—perhaps for ever.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 22-07-2024 03:36:12
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