"There it is!" cried Sir James, eagerly. “Look round the table,” she said. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. "I've known several cases where the ignominious doom I've mentioned has been foretold by such an accident as has just befallen you. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. 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. An unwelcome idea came to him.
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