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. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. It is extraordinary. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. Let's get one idea into our heads. Now I do.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 16-05-2024 10:50:22
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