She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. 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. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square.
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