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"Pish!" exclaimed Hogarth. " "I expect no commiseration," returned Mrs. 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. Ruth was something to study for future copy; she was almost unbelievable. “We were afraid that you had deserted us for good, Mr. Louis the Fourteenth yet lived, and expectations were, therefore, indulged of assistance from France. Never was heard such a bawling as these unfortunate wights kept up.
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