Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts. 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. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. " "What a mistake!" "Yes. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. " "Get hence," continued Mrs. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window.
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