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. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. “I’d sooner condemn you to Hell.
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