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“How’s Mrs. 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. “Girl friends. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used.
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This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 19-09-2024 07:43:56
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