Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. 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. I have been around them for long enough. ’ Fury rippled again.
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