And it is not at all his affair. 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 study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. Leastways, not on your own. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him.
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