This species of madness cannot properly be attributed to his illness, though its accent might be. ” “Who are you?” “I am a friend of Miss Pellissier’s,” Courtlaw answered. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand.
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