'It was dark now and the curtains were undrawn.
"What's that glow in the sky[?]" he said. "I've often noticed it from Rossiemurchat. Is it the Northern Lights?"
She laughed peacefully. "My mother's batteries."
"Her batteries...?"
For a single instant the possibility of her mother being powered by batteries found reality in Lionel's suggestible eyes.
"Hens."'
from Marching with April by Hugo Charteris (Chapter 21)
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