"— The kettle is boiling, he said.
But he delayed to clear the chair: her striped petticoat, tossed soiled linen: and lifted all in an armful on to the foot of the bed.
As he went down the kitchen stairs she called:
— Poldy!
— What?
— Scald the teapot.
On the boil sure enough: a plume of steam from the spout." (U4.264)
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