" His daughter, however, anticipated him. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. 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. She still had her letter of credit.
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