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. ‘Me, I do not need the help of anyone. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. And she was as shrewd as they come.
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