“Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. Probably a sick man's whim. 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. Rules are for established things, like the pieces and positions of a game. You know what's what.
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