” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. We wore invisible chains and invisible blinkers. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. Could she go through with it? She must. 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. Anyone else who finds out must be killed, otherwise, you insure death or worse for us.
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