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. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. Wood went on fuming, and the trio went on laughing for some minutes, nobody knew why or wherefore, until the party was increased by Mr. ’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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