” “Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. "But, it strikes me, I've heard that Mrs. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. An electric light flashed out from the wall. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. She drove me.
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