These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. He did everything. As such, you may command the sympathies of the gentry. 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 lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls.
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