He stood still, almost breathless. 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. For it was but logical that she would seek a divorce on the ground that she had unknowingly married a fugitive from justice. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper.
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