The fourth room is like the fourth of anything. At least some music is quietly playing. Or it was both times I was there, string quartets. That’s probably information out of turn, that I was through the room twice. It is inserted between later rooms, or at least was for me, or there was a replica. Anyhow it reappeared, but this wasn’t disorienting at the time, when it was my fourth room. Speaking of it possessively seems so ridiculous – my room. When I have nothing! But then, four rooms in, you know there will be no great revelations. There will be a fifth, and then others. Frankly, to my core I was thankful for the playing cards on the table. Already I was not so much asking questions of why certain things like playing cards might have been chosen to be in the room, I just started shuffling the cards. Or I knew, as I asked such questions, their futility. It took a while to find that the deck lacked the ten of clubs.