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. “I suppose there’s no way of getting a decent income—independently. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQyLjIxMi4yMDcgLSAyNC0wNy0yMDI0IDEyOjA5OjM4IC0gMzM4NTYzNDc4
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