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 took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. "They're the heaviest set we have,—and were forged expressly for Captain Sheppard.
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