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" "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. And to wish not is useless, because you have told me from when I was a little girl. 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 dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally.
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