conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first paragraph for a story with the title 'Fairest of Them All'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Fairest of Them All
  Holly smothered a yawn into her hand as the minstrel strummed his lute and drew breath for another verse. She feared she'd nod off into her wine before he got around to praising any attributes below her neck. Which might be just as well.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Holly turned to gaze behind her, shading her eyes against the lowering sun. The earth beneath her knees vibrated with the thunder of approaching hoofbeats. Her heart began to race, beating in time to the frantic rhythm.
  Austyn slid off his destrier before it could come to a complete halt, stalking toward her with deadly grace. She came to her feet in instinctive defense. 'Twould seem her efforts to coax a response from her husband had succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. He was in nothing less than a murderous rage.
  He stopped less than a foot from her, his broad chest heaving, his nostrils flaring with each ragged breath. "How dare you? Is there no corner of my life you won't scrub or sweep or befoul with your childish attentions, your ridiculous flowers?"
  A bellow of rage would have been less wounding than his low snarl of contempt. He was gazing at her as if she were a vile thing—a profanation of the holy ground on which they stood.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Lottie twined one long golden curl around her finger. "It's a pity I'm not the older sister. 'Twould be a great sacrifice, of course, but I'd be perfectly willing to marry for money instead of love. Then I could take care of you and George forever. And I wouldn't have any trouble catching a rich husband. I'm going to be quite the incomparable beauty, you know. Everyone says so."
  Laura plopped down on a creaky ottoman and rested her chin in her hand. "How was I to know that anyone but us would even want this run-down old place? I suppose I thought we could simply go on living here as long as we liked, with no one ever the wiser."
  Slowly becoming aware that her brother's and sister's dejected faces mirrored her own, Laura rose, forcing a smile. "There's no need for such long faces. We've an entire month before this Lord Devil arrives."
  Laura nodded. "I realize the situation seems hopeless, but we must always remember what Papa taught us—through prayer and persistence, the good Lord will provide."
  Laura pondered her answer for a long moment, her pious demeanor at odds with the determined gleam in her eye. "A man."