Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which she had found. New customs have prevailed over the old. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. 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. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. They had been married for well over one hundred years. .
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