" "I'll tell you what I'll do," rejoined the other. That’s who you ought to go and see, miss. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours. 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. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. "No, I don't.
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