conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled Another Country about Book, Condition, Light with the genre: Politics & Social Sciences, Social Sciences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Book is in Good Condition with Light amount of wear. Same Day Shipping
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Another Country
  Richard came into the room, looking harried and boyish, wearing an old grey sweater over a white T-shirt and carrying his belt in his hands.
  Richard looked at the belt shamefacedly and threw it on the sofa. 'I didn't really use it on him. I just made believe I was going to. I probably should have whaled the daylights out of him.' He said to Cass, 'What's the matter with him all of a sudden? He's never acted like this before.'
  He stared at her and shook his head. 'That's true. Sorry.' He turned to Ida and Vivaldo. 'Excuse us. We're fascinated by our offspring. We sometimes sit around and talk about them for hours. Ida, you look wonderful, it's great to see you.' He took her hand in his, looking into her eyes. 'Are you all right?'
  Cass left the room. Richard grinned at Vivaldo. 'If you hadn't got here today, I swore I was just going to cut you out of my heart for ever.'
  Against his will, Vivaldo was forced to laugh. 'Well. I don't think Ida's colour has a damn thing to do with it, one way or the other.'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: They signalled the waiter, and paid him, and walked into the streets again. The sun was going down, but the heat had not lessened. The stone and steel and wood and brick and asphalt which had soaked in the heat all day would be giving it back all night. They walked two blocks, to the corner of Fifth Avenue, in silence; and in this silence something lived which made Vivaldo oddly reluctant to leave Cass alone.
  She looked up and down the Avenue – up and down. From the direction of the park there came a green and yellow cab.
  She opened the door and he held it. 'Thank you, Vivaldo,' she said. 'Thank you for everything. I'll be in touch with you in a few days. Or call me, I'll be home.'
  It was like waving good-bye to land: and she could not guess what might have befallen her when, and if, she ever saw land again.
  But she could not bear the movie, which showed no signs of ever ending. At nine o'clock she walked downstairs again, intending to walk and have a drink somewhere and go home. Home. And she dialled the number again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.. Start with the sentence 'He dropped his voice lower, and struggled to say it: 'Ida'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He dropped his voice lower, and struggled to say it: 'Ida. You knew about Ida and Ellis. Cass told you.'
  He hung up, smiling thoughtfully, switched on his work-table lamp, and scribbled his note. Then he walked into the kitchen, turned off the gas, and poured the coffee. He knocked on the bathroom door.
  He sat down on his work stool, and, presently, here she came, scrubbed and quiet, looking like a child. He forced himself to look into her eyes; he did not know what she would see in his; he did not know what he felt.
  He said, 'Thank you for telling me – everything you've told me. I know it wasn't easy.' She said nothing. She made a faint, steamy sound as she sipped her coffee, and this sound was unaccountably, inexpressibly annoying. 'And forgive me, now, if I don't seem to know just what to say, I'm maybe a little – stunned.' He looked over at her, and a wilderness of anger, pity, love, and contempt and lust all raged together in him. She, too, was a whore; how bitterly he had been betrayed! 'I'm not trying to deny anything you've said, but just the same, there are a lot of things I didn't – don't –understand, not really. Bear with me, please give me a little time – '
  They stared at each other. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her to him, trembling, with tears starting up behind his eyes, burning and blinding, and covered her face with kisses, which seemed to freeze as they fell. She clung to him; with a sigh she buried her face in his chest. There was nothing erotic in it; they were like two weary children. And it was she who was comforting him. Her long fingers stroked his back, and he began, slowly, with a horrible, strangling sound, to weep, for she was stroking his innocence out of him.