conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first paragraph for a book with the title 'Aiding and Abetting'?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Aiding and Abetting
  Lucan remembered vividly the horror of his botched murderous attacks. In his frantic telephone calls on that night in 1974 he had reportedly muttered incoherent phrases among which the words "mess" and "blood" were distinguished. He now decreed to himself that there should be no blood, no mess, in the disposal of Walker.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A man came in, and got Jean-Pierre's immediate attention. Walker said, "I'll be back later," and left. The man was looking for an antique fire guard, two of which Jean-Pierre was able to produce. There was a good deal of discussion and measuring. Finally the customer chose one, paid, and carried it away under his arm. As he left the shop another man stood in the doorway. The new arrival now entered. He was the African, Dr. Jacobs.
  Tall Walker, having obtained a temporary job as a Père Nöel in a Paris department store, could count on a modest pay for a few weeks ahead. He rather liked the job and fancied he suited it well.
  But Walker was weary. The furnished flat comprised two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. Lucky normally occupied the bedroom, while Walker slept on a divan in the sitting room. The place had been decorated by someone with a mania for stripes, pale stripes on the wallpaper, louder ones on the upholstery throughout the apartment. The bathroom tiles formed red stripes punctuated by little bunches of cherries and rosebuds. The towels were striped. The stripes in the sitting room were green and white. The wall-to-wall stuff on the floor, discernible as a yellowish green by origin, was now a matted and stained old brown. A tap in the bathroom dripped incessantly but Walker didn't feel like approaching the concierge about it; there was the question of the overdue rent which the husband of the concierge ferociously wanted.
  Now Walker was idly practicing his part before a mirror above the mantelpiece; it seemed to him that he had been attitudinizing most of his life. He had been the perfect English butler in Mexico, he had been Lucky Lucan for over ten years in Central Africa, and recently in Paris; and now Father Christmas at the Bon Marché.
  A key in the lock of the front door. Lucky Lucan walked in, not a hair out of place. He held a white carrier bag from which he extracted a bottle of whisky. He put it down on a side table with a thud.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Chief was impatient for their arrival. "What are two English earls doing here in these parts? They have committed crimes?" the wily fellow had asked one of his henchmen.
  Delihu had sent his strongest bearers with their litters and arranged for a long strip of red carpet to be spread down the front steps of his large dwelling.
  Hildegard's business flourished over the following months. She disposed of most of the patients she had left behind when she went to London, for she did not believe in longterm therapy. New patients abounded; she seemed to have the healing touch. She now also returned to her domestic life with Jean-Pierre, untroubled and unmarried as always.
  One day in the cold early spring of the following year, Dominique rang through to Hildegard while she was with a patient; this was an unusual procedure.
  When his turn came round she greeted him warmly. "We're in your debt, Dr. Jacobs. It's wonderful in Paris these days without the Lucan menace. I hope..."