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. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. Mirrors.
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