And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. Truth to tell, more damage had been done in the enthusiastic chase carried out by the militiamen detailed to catch it. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. 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.
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