conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Rockman, author, I><a with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Field of Thirteen'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Field of Thirteen
  Quiet and contented on the river on Monday as the long August dusk lengthened, Bill Williams steered his unaggressive boat to a stretch of sweet-smelling bank, and tied a mooring rope to a sapling willow. The little sounds of water birds snuggling down for the night in a patch of reedbed, the whisper of the faintest of wind movement in dead and dry grass stems along the bank, the faint chuckle of the current as the river gently bypassed his inert boat, all the tiny natural things obliterated for a while the clamor of the raucous outside world that had to be dealt with and lived in, and if possible changed for the better. Long ago, to his surprise, young Dr. A. E. da V. etc. had come to the self-knowledge that if a cause was just, he would kill for it.
  Death on the Thames that week came no nearer than river-rage, with motorway bad manners spilling over into raised voices and shaken fists. The punt was slow. Fast fiberglass cruisers filled with holidaymakers in a hurry swept past with boom boxes thumping. Anglers sitting half-hidden on stools along the bank (patiently waiting to hook the uneatable) cursed the silent punt for dragging their lines. Lockkeepers stifled impatience while the boat with no rudder but a trailing punt pole maneuvered difficult eddies at the entrances and exits of the locks.
  On the credit side he watched the sunsets after the busy river was quiet, and listened to geese honking on the meadows above Oxford, and ate at an inn with peacocks on the roof, and once, half disbelieving, caught the bright blue flash of the wing of a rare kingfisher on the hunt.
  He lived down among the moorhens with snapdragons and floppy poppies growing wild beside him. He floated eyeball to eyeball with bad-tempered hissing swans and was looked down on superciliously by alarmed herons who plucked up their feet fastidiously and stalked away.
  In Oxford he bought as usual every local and London newspaper he could lay his hands on, and went back to the boat.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is three more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Clement could hardly believe his eyes. Angela could hardly breathe. Magic floated over the last fence and charged up the straight and finished third.
  Since almost no one else had backed her horse, Angela collected a fortune in place money from the Tote; and a few days later, for exactly what she'd paid, she sold Magic to a scrap-metal merchant from Kent.
  Angela sent Derek Roberts a get-well card. A week later she sent him an impersonal case of champagne and a simple message: "Thanks."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last four paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Jasper, indeed, didn't hear her. With the car's ignition still turned off, the message machine remained silent.
  After that he decided to find a good solid tree somewhere and accelerate head-on into a killing crash.
  He slotted the car key into the ignition to start the engine... and the car phone message service spoke Wendy's words aloud, as if she were there by his side.
  Gradually he understood that Lilyglit lived, that his bet with Percy Driffield was void and that neither he nor Vernon Arkwright would be charged with breaking racing law.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gradually he understood that Lilyglit lived, that his bet with Percy Driffield was void and that neither he nor Vernon Arkwright would be charged with breaking racing law.. and the car phone message service spoke Wendy's words aloud, as if she were there by his side...
  He slotted the car key into the ignition to start the engine.
  After that he decided to find a good solid tree somewhere and accelerate head-on into a killing crash. With the car's ignition still turned off, the message machine remained silent.Jasper, indeed, didn't hear her