” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. But Blueskin was not to be silenced. 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 do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 16-05-2024 14:57:38
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