” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder alluded to in the description of her as a child,—but that was the only drawback to her beauty. 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. Mr. Just what it means.
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