"Your tone suggests something marvellous in the fact," replied Ah Cum, ironically. " "I care not why you did it," said Jack, sternly. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. You are right. 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. ’ ‘A pretty tale.
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