“Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. 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. ” “What?” He asked. ” He would say every time she wore it.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 30-06-2024 13:32:35
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