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. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. Never was heard such a bawling as these unfortunate wights kept up. ” He spoke loudly. ‘She won’t. ' He muttered it continually.
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