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Vee’s all right. 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. In her case the barrier was not selfishness but the perception that her interest would be misinterpreted, naturally. “Fine. "Past noon," replied Blueskin.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 28-06-2024 05:37:28
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