conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'The Second Lady'?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Second Lady
  And there had been a bonus. Parker was placed in an office next to Nora Judson's office suite. She was the First Lady's press secretary, who also had a hand in her social life and public appearances. To be able to undertake so many jobs, and do them well, was a measure of the young woman's energy and gifts. Parker guessed that she was about twenty-nine. He would have liked to regard her as a sex object. From her glossy dark hair, green eyes, pert nose, generous lips to her bountiful breasts and shapely legs, she was a delight to the male eye. But the intellect was formidable. One rarely finished a sentence with her, before she had concluded the task. She did things two at a time, to perfection. She could go from a press briefing to a hospital dedication to a State Dinner without a fumble and without complaint. The problem had been her remoteness. She was always busy, or made herself busy, and she was otherwise a private person and preferred life that way. Parker had hinted at drinks or dinner together. She had ignored him. In five months he had not been able to penetrate the wall that separated their offices and persons. She had been correct. She had been pleasant. She had remained aloof. It was maddening, but her existence and nearness had been the bonus.
  Parker had been busy, too. Laying the groundwork for the First Lady's much-touted autobiography had been a ten-hour-a-day occupation. The beginning of the assignment had been collecting material to read. He had located and read everything that had ever appeared in print on Billie Bradford. He had gone through a mountain range of newspaper and magazine clippings, making countless pages of notes. Then he had begun to travel outside of Washington, meeting and interviewing her relatives, friends, private school and college instructors and classmates. He had even flown to California to spend two days with her father Clarence Lane, her sister Kit, her brother-in-law Norris Weinstein, and a nephew named Richie.
  She had set up a daily routine—one hour, usually every afternoon—to reply to his questions into his tape recorder. He had found her professional, forthright, fun, and the work wasn't work at all, except as he made it so in his absolute obsessive need for detail.
  And here he was, this steaming afternoon in late August, heading for another interview session with—but no, not another today. He remembered. Billie Bradford had just canceled today's session. She was too busy. This confused him, this cancellation, only the second one since they had begun. Yet Nora had made it clear, the First Lady wanted to see him as soon as possible about something else. He wondered what else it could be.
  He had come out of Lafayette Park, crossed Pennsylvania Avenue, approached the guardhouse, routinely flipped open his wallet to display his White House identification card. He passed through, went up the curving driveway to the North Portico entrance. He reached the red-carpeted main stairway, and with a nod to the portrait of Herbert Hoover on the landing, continued up the steps two at a time, past the portraits of Woodrow Wilson and Franklin D. Roosevelt. At the top, he was greeted by the person of Nora Judson.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mirsky stood over her. "You are awake, I see." His silver teeth disconcerted her. His breath smelled of onions. "My English, it is not exact, but you will understand. You tried to escape. This we do not blame you. But how you escaped, this we must know."
  Mirksy said, "We know you are big person. We do not care. To us you are small. You understand? If you do not give the truth, we take it from you. We make you tell. Who was your help?"
  Mirsky had drawn back his hand to strike her again, when Razin roared out a word in Russian. Mirsky whirled about, stiffened. Razin rushed at him, shoved him aside. "What in the hell is going on here?" Razin yelled.
  Against their will, the two KGB guards obeyed. Mirsky went behind to unlock the handcuffs. Dogel got down on his knees to undo the strap.
  Freed, Billie began to slump forward, but Razin caught her before she could fall. Over his shoulder, he said, "Now, you fools, get out of here."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sighing, Lily took off her clothes, pulled on a T-shirt and crawled into bed. She cast one last lamenting glance at the indifferent Curse, and began to read.
  To think that I will never see you again outside the convent walls. That we will never again laugh and play as we have so long been accustomed to. Oh Nicole, I know there is only one matter you wish to know about. I will not make you wait and guess. He is gone. He has been sent away to his uncle's home in Paris. No one in his family will speak to me, as you know. What little I know I heard from the LaFaver boys. They say he may be sent to Germany, or perhaps even farther, until his parents are satisfied that all is forgotten and they can make a proper marriage for him. As for my own parents, they will not speak of the matter at all, and they guard me closely for fear that I have been tainted by your influence. I am ostracized for knowing you. Nicole! To think of the days of our loving friendship, who could have imagined such sorrow and affliction coming upon us? And what is my own next to yours?
  There is little else to tell you. Mother is with child again — and at her great age! Jean has taken several prizes at school. Pray, write me quickly and tell me all you can.
  You can find DESIRE, by Amy Wallace, as well as many selections by her father, and the two in collaboration, in the eBook store of your choice. You can search Crossroad Press, Irving Wallace, or Amy Wallace. Crossroad Press is proud to present over seven hundred digital titles in the genres of mystery, thrillers, horror, fantasy, science fiction, mainstream fiction, non-fiction, and more.
  If you'd like to be notified of new Crossroad Press titles when they are published, please send an e-mail to publisher@crossroadpress.com and ask to be added to our mailing list.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She cast one last lamenting glance at the indifferent Curse, and began to read.
  To think that I will never see you again outside the convent walls. That we will never again laugh and play as we have so long been accustomed to. Oh Nicole, I know there is only one matter you wish to know about. I will not make you wait and guess. He is gone. He has been sent away to his uncle's home in Paris. No one in his family will speak to me, as you know. What little I know I heard from the LaFaver boys. They say he may be sent to Germany, or perhaps even farther, until his parents are satisfied that all is forgotten and they can make a proper marriage for him. As for my own parents, they will not speak of the matter at all, and they guard me closely for fear that I have been tainted by your influence. I am ostracized for knowing you. Nicole! To think of the days of our loving friendship, who could have imagined such sorrow and affliction coming upon us? And what is my own next to yours?
  There is little else to tell you. Mother is with child again — and at her great age! Jean has taken several prizes at school. Pray, write me quickly and tell me all you can.
  You can find DESIRE, by Amy Wallace, as well as many selections by her father, and the two in collaboration, in the eBook store of your choice. You can search Crossroad Press, Irving Wallace, or Amy Wallace. Crossroad Press is proud to present over seven hundred digital titles in the genres of mystery, thrillers, horror, fantasy, science fiction, mainstream fiction, non-fiction, and more.
  If you'd like to be notified of new Crossroad Press titles when they are published, please send an e-mail to publisher@crossroadpress.com and ask to be added to our mailing list.