conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a story about Fey, Terry, Simeon entitled The Turquoise.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Turquoise: Born in 1850 of a Spanish mother and a Scotsman in New Mexico, and orphaned at a young age in the town for whom she was named, Santa Fe (Fey) Cameron is taken in and raised by dutiful but apathetic neighbors.\nAs a teenager, hot-blooded Fey takes the opportunity to leave town with Terry Dillon, a shifty traveling salesman.\nAs they slowly make their way up the Santa Fe Trail, Fey convinces herself they are in love.\nNot disagreeable (for the time being), Terry enlists Richens Lacey Wootton to marry them at Raton Pass.\nContinuing east selling Terry's questionable medicine and utilizing several of Fey's talents to earn extra money, upon reaching Leavenworth, Kansas, they are able to raise train fares to New York.\nFey and Terry arrive in New York City without any prospects and are soon forced to use up their small savings for food and board.\nTerry soon abandons Fey for greener pastures.\nDiscovering she is pregnant, resourceful Fey seeks assistance at a local infirmary for women and makes arrangements to live there in exchange for helping out with the work.\nAfter her daughter Lucita is born, bewitching Fey sets her eyes on New York tycoon Simeon Tower as a means of securing her financial future and wins her way into his heart.\nAfter securing a discreet divorce for Fey, she and Simeon marry and achieve happiness.\nThey endeavor to increase not only their fortune but their social standing over the years, but the year 1877 would be their downfall.\nSimeon not only finds himself close to losing nearly everything financially, but Terry Dillon reemerges to disrupt their lives.\nTerry's attempts to woo Fey and blackmail Simeon result in tragedy.\nBankrupt and a social pariah, Fey eventually brings an ailing Simeon back to the simple life in New Mexico to live out their days.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: \nBankrupt and a social pariah, Fey eventually brings an ailing Simeon back to the simple life in New Mexico to live out their days.\nAs a teenager, hot-blooded Fey takes the opportunity to leave town with Terry Dillon, a shifty traveling salesman.\nAs they slowly make their way up the Santa Fe Trail, Fey convinces herself they are in love.\nNot disagreeable (for the time being), Terry enlists Richens Lacey Wootton to marry them at Raton Pass.\nContinuing east selling Terry's questionable medicine and utilizing several of Fey's talents to earn extra money, upon reaching Leavenworth, Kansas, they are able to raise train fares to New York.\nFey and Terry arrive in New York City without any prospects and are soon forced to use up their small savings for food and board.\nTerry soon abandons Fey for greener pastures.\nDiscovering she is pregnant, resourceful Fey seeks assistance at a local infirmary for women and makes arrangements to live there in exchange for helping out with the work.\nAfter her daughter Lucita is born, bewitching Fey sets her eyes on New York tycoon Simeon Tower as a means of securing her financial future and wins her way into his heart.\nAfter securing a discreet divorce for Fey, she and Simeon marry and achieve happiness.\nThey endeavor to increase not only their fortune but their social standing over the years, but the year 1877 would be their downfall.\nSimeon not only finds himself close to losing nearly everything financially, but Terry Dillon reemerges to disrupt their lives.\nTerry's attempts to woo Fey and blackmail Simeon result in tragedy.The Turquoise: Born in 1850 of a Spanish mother and a Scotsman in New Mexico, and orphaned at a young age in the town for whom she was named, Santa Fe (Fey) Cameron is taken in and raised by dutiful but apathetic neighbors.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Turquoise
  She carried Lucita into the adjacent nursery, where she put her in a crib amongst the other babies. She hated to do this, for the others were sickly and wizened, and they kept up an incessant whimper, but the little nurse would keep an eye on Lucita until Fey returned. Fey glanced at the wall clock and its swaying brass pendulum. Two-thirty. Plenty of time.
  She returned to her room, washed, and dressed very carefully in the feuille morte suit. It gave precisely the impression she wished. The lines of the tight bodice accented her bosom and small waist, but discreetly so that one thought it accidental. Just as feuille morte was striking and exotic on her, yet, after all, it was brown. Ño one could consider brown flashy. The bonnet left most of her magnificent hair uncovered, and instead of her usual prim knot, she had gathered it loosely into a net, where it made a tremendous "waterfall" to her shoulders; a fashionable effect seldom achieved by other women without the lavish use of false hair. When she was ready, she leaned close to the mirror and applied coral salve to her lips, and she made no attempt to reduce their full outline to the rosebud pout which beauty demanded.
  SIMEON TOWER was born in 1830 in the back room of a small hardware shop on the outskirts of Danbury, Connecticut. He was born Simon Turmstein. His father was an enterprising Jewish peddler who had chafed at life in the Frankfort ghetto, saved his pfennigs, and bought steerage passage for the new world, decades before this method of escape had occurred to others of his patient race. Isaac Turmstein had not liked the confinement of New York, and he had wandered on foot through most of New England—his peddler's pack slung over his shoulder—until one day he happened upon Danbury and Annie Mason. She was plump and blonde and placid, the daughter of a mill hand employed by the newly established Mallory Hat Company. She fell in love with the dark romantic-looking peddler, and he, being attracted by her pink blondeness and being also tired of roaming, soon married her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Terry nodded and took a huge fiery swallow. You won't catch me that way, he thought, amused. I could drink six of you under the table, you dried-up little weasel.
  He decided to clarify matters by a bold attack. "I think," he said, delicately setting down his glass and giving it a little half-twist, "that your call concerns Mrs. Tower—who was once, perhaps, Mrs. Dillon?"
  Divorce! Lemming's face fell. He had hoped for bigamy. Still, far more clearly than Terry, he saw the possibilities.
  Terry was shocked. Lemming had at one bound jumped much farther than Terry's vague optimistic plans had reached. His precise voice had nailed down the gauzy moth, and now, no longer fluttering on ahead but starkly spread out on the desk between them, it looked crude and ugly.
  The smile did not reassure Terry. He was out of his depth, for after all this man was Tower's secretary and presumably would guard his employer's interest.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.. Start with the sentence 'Though he alone of all those who knew her had had many talks with her and learned something of her history, it was not until he opened the letter of instruction which she had prepared that he learned her real name'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Though he alone of all those who knew her had had many talks with her and learned something of her history, it was not until he opened the letter of instruction which she had prepared that he learned her real name.
  Santa Fe Cameron, he thought in amazement; she was named for this town of her birth, for whose people she had done so much, and they have all these years unknowingly and against my wishes been calling her by part of her baptismal name. And this realization gave him a sense of mystical contentment, for it seemed in that moment of illumination that there was here a glimpse of the underlying pattern and meaning for which we all seek, and he pondered often on the woman's story.
  She had once repudiated this place of her birth and spirit, fled from it with passion and a clamoring of the senses, as she had misused the vision with which she had been born. And because she was strong and had latent in her the possibilities for true greatness, even perhaps for the beatification she had here transiently and but semi-seriously achieved—because of this strength she had involved others in her tragedy.
  But there had been atonement, patient day-by-day self-sacrifice back here in the place which she had once despised. Ah, yes, thought the priest, it makes a pattern. And the pattern is God's.
  When a new generation grew up in the Barrio Analco, she would be forgotten, her untended adobe house was already crumbling, the wooden Mexican cross on her grave would last no longer than all the others throughout the land, but something would endure. Something in the pure and exalted air on the summit of the mountains, in the fragrance of the junipers and piñons, in the warm shadows of the portales, and in the still sunlight and the gold-flecked dust of the far-reaching roads.