” He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the shops and people. “You need a reason. 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. “Yes, I know. They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. We were properly married, and the certificate is at my lawyer’s.
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