She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. He had seldom been more perturbed. “I was frightened then,” she declared. 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. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. ’ Gerald noted the mixture of respect and apprehension in the glance he received from the boy. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. The Widow and her Child II.
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