conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled Night School about Enrolling, California, Young with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr. 7^-10. the author's story is several moral cuts above standard YA horror fare. Enrolling in a mysterious night school course, four California teens encounter an evil instructor--and their own worst character defects. As they torment a teacher and a fellow student, the four learn to accept the outcomes of moral choices that determine whether their spheres of influence in others' lives will be good or evil. They learn to accept individual responsibility for their actions instead of blaming the morality of their peer group, to pay more attention to other people in their lives, and to care beyond themselves. They also learn that inner selves are more important than surface appearances. Young adults will recognize themselves, or people they know, in these characters. Engrossing and well written, with references to contemporary adolescent culture, the novel will both entertain and enlighten YA readers. Merri Monks
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled Night School about Allie, Up-Rebellious, London with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 8 Up-Rebellious London teen Allie Sheridan, 16, has just gotten arrested-again. It's the last straw for her parents, and Allie is shipped off to a mysterious boarding school, Cimmeria Academy. The institution caters to a select crowd of children from elite families; the protagonist has no idea why she's been sent to live among them. Nothing is what it seems at this old-fashioned academy and Allie will have to sort through the lies and dangers to discover the truth about the school, her classmates, and her own family. This supernatural thriller covers fairly well-trod ground: teen relationships, love triangles, and secrets. While the author evokes a suspenseful gothic-style tone, the novel fails to have the tight story arc and writing structure needed to maintain the spooky mood. The first in a series, this book serves to set up intrigue and introduce readers to the main cast of characters, but it leaves many questions unanswered. This title will appeal most to fans of Gabriella Poole's Secret Lives (Hodder & Stoughton, 2009) and Richelle Mead's Bloodlines (Razorbill, 2011).-Stephanie Whelan, New York Public Library(c) Copyright 2013. Library Journal. LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book titled Night School about Enrolling, California, Young with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School (1981 film): Anne Barron (Meb Boden) is a teacher's aide at the Jack-N-Jill Daycare Center in Boston.\nIt's the early evening and the last child has been picked up by her mother.\nAnne is relaxing on the playground carousel when someone pulls up on a motorcycle, wearing a black motorcycle helmet.\nShe is startled as the stranger pulls out a kukri and starts spinning the carousel.\nThe kukri is held up in the air and the terrified woman goes around until she's struck with it.\nJudd Austin (Leonard Mann) is the cop assigned to the case.\nHe is called to the scene and when he gets there, he sees the girl decapitated, with her head in a bucket of water nearby.\nThe distraught director of the center tells the officer that Anne worked there during the day and was attending night classes at Wendall College.\nAt the hospital, Judd and his partner Taj (Joseph Sicari) discuss a similar case from the previous week; another girl was found decapitated and her head in a pond.\nThey begin to question if there's any connection between the two murders.\nAt Wendell, the administrator Miss Helene Griffin (Annette Miller) tells Judd that Anne was close to a girl named Kim Morrison (Elizabeth Barnitz).\nWhen asked if Anne had a boyfriend, Kim tells the officer that the murdered girl was indeed involved with someone but she doesn't know who it was.\nShe assumes the man must have been married as he was depressed.\nJudd enters Professor Millett's anthropology class to speak with him about his murdered student in French.\nThe professor doesn't offer much information but he introduces Judd to an exchange student named Eleanor Adjai (Rachel Ward).\nEleanor leaves the school and goes to the local diner operated by Gus (Nicholas Cairis) who yells at Gary with his Greek accent to take out the garbage, but Gary is fixated on Eleanor.\nThere, she is creeped out by Gary (Bill McCann), the busboy who appears to have mental issues.\nCarol (Karen MacDonald), the waitress asks Eleanor if she's in Millet's class and implies that he sleeps around, irritating Eleanor and she leaves.\nGary follows her home.\nWhen she realizes this, she runs the rest of the way and quickly locks the door.\nShe gets into the shower but someone tries to break in.\nFrightened, she gets out of the shower, only to find that it's Professor Millet, her boyfriend who had been locked out by accident.\nAnne's friend Kim is working at the local aquarium.\nAbout to leave work, she takes off her diving suit and is decapitated.\nA woman who was previously looking at the turtles, screams after she sees Kim's head fall into the tank.\nThe officer then informs Millett that a second student of his has been killed and asks him if he has had any affairs with his pupils.\nMillett is annoyed at this line of questioning and tells Judd to leave.\nEleanor and Millett get into an argument and she goes to the diner to be alone.\nThe professor follows her and she tells him that she is three months pregnant.\nHe's sympathetic although he still manages to flirt with Carol as she waits on them.\nAfter the diner has closed, Carol is left to clean up.\nWhen the power goes out, she heads to the basement to investigate.\nThe killer appears and attacks her, resulting Carol to escape, but then gets caught in an alley and killed.\nWhen one of the workers shows up the next day, he thinks someone has broken into the diner.\nA customer finds hair in his bowl of stew, Carol's head in a water-filled sink, and her body in a dumpster.\nJudd and Taj go to Gus's house since he is now considered a prime suspect, but Judd doesn't believe he was involved.\nWhen Judd goes to Professor Millett's home again, he finds a collection of skulls taken from tribal headhunters from around the world.\nOddly, Eleanor doesn't see anything wrong with the collection.\nAt Wendell, Miss Griffin tells Millett to stop sleeping around with his students and counsels Kathy (Holly Hardman), who confesses that she too has been intimate with the professor.\nMiss Griffin, however, seems to have her own ideas about Kathy and she invites the girl to spend the night at her house, resulting the two of them sleeping together.\nThe student is not entirely comfortable, but is enjoying the company.\nMiss Griffin is killed when she gets up to answer the phone, and Kathy is killed shortly after discovering Griffin's head in the toilet.\nJudd is on his way to speak to Miss Griffin when he sees the killer fleeing.\nHe chases the killer to Professor's Millett's apartment.\nWhen inside, it is revealed to be Eleanor.\nShe confesses the killings to her boyfriend and justifies the crimes by comparing them to tribal rituals he teaches in his courses.\nAs the police are closing in, Millett puts on the helmet and flees on his motorcycle to deflect attention from his pregnant girlfriend.\nDuring a chase with Judd and Taj, the professor is struck by a car and killed.\nEleanor attends his burial and the police believe the case has been solved.\nIt is implied that Judd suspects that the killer was Eleanor and that Millett died to protect her, but with the case closed, Judd lets Eleanor go without arresting her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about \nJudd, Professor, Millett, surprised.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School (1981 film): Anne Barron (Meb Boden) is a teacher's aide at the Jack-N-Jill Daycare Center in Boston. \nIt's the early evening and the last child has been picked up by her mother. \nAnne is relaxing on the playground carousel when someone pulls up on a motorcycle, wearing a black motorcycle helmet. \nShe is startled as the stranger pulls out a kukri and starts spinning the carousel. \nThe kukri is held up in the air and the terrified woman goes around until she's struck with it. \nJudd Austin (Leonard Mann) is the cop assigned to the case. \nHe is called to the scene and when he gets there, he sees the girl decapitated, with her head in a bucket of water nearby. \nThe distraught director of the center tells the officer that Anne worked there during the day and was attending night classes at Wendall College. \nAt the hospital, Judd and his partner Taj (Joseph Sicari) discuss a similar case from the previous week; another girl was found decapitated and her head in a pond. \nThey begin to question if there's any connection between the two murders. \nAt Wendell, the administrator Miss Helene Griffin (Annette Miller) tells Judd that Anne was close to a girl named Kim Morrison (Elizabeth Barnitz). \nWhen asked if Anne had a boyfriend, Kim tells the officer that the murdered girl was indeed involved with someone but she doesn't know who it was. \nShe assumes the man must have been married as he was depressed. \nJudd enters Professor Millett's anthropology class to speak with him about his murdered student in French. \nThe professor doesn't offer much information but he introduces Judd to an exchange student named Eleanor Adjai (Rachel Ward). \nEleanor leaves the school and goes to the local diner operated by Gus (Nicholas Cairis) who yells at Gary with his Greek accent to take out the garbage, but Gary is fixated on Eleanor. \nThere, she is creeped out by Gary (Bill McCann), the busboy who appears to have mental issues. \nCarol (Karen MacDonald), the waitress asks Eleanor if she's in Millet's class and implies that he sleeps around, irritating Eleanor and she leaves. \nGary follows her home. \nWhen she realizes this, she runs the rest of the way and quickly locks the door. \nShe gets into the shower but someone tries to break in. \nFrightened, she gets out of the shower, only to find that it's Professor Millet, her boyfriend who had been locked out by accident. \nAnne's friend Kim is working at the local aquarium. \nAbout to leave work, she takes off her diving suit and is decapitated. \nA woman who was previously looking at the turtles, screams after she sees Kim's head fall into the tank. \nJudd pays a visit to Professor Millett and is surprised to see Eleanor, but she explains that she is the professor's research assistant. \nThe officer then informs Millett that a second student of his has been killed and asks him if he has had any affairs with his pupils. \nMillett is annoyed at this line of questioning and tells Judd to leave. \nEleanor and Millett get into an argument and she goes to the diner to be alone. \nThe professor follows her and she tells him that she is three months pregnant. \nHe's sympathetic although he still manages to flirt with Carol as she waits on them. \nAfter the diner has closed, Carol is left to clean up. \nWhen the power goes out, she heads to the basement to investigate. \nThe killer appears and attacks her, resulting Carol to escape, but then gets caught in an alley and killed. \nWhen one of the workers shows up the next day, he thinks someone has broken into the diner. \nA customer finds hair in his bowl of stew, Carol's head in a water-filled sink, and her body in a dumpster. \nJudd and Taj go to Gus's house since he is now considered a prime suspect, but Judd doesn't believe he was involved. \nWhen Judd goes to Professor Millett's home again, he finds a collection of skulls taken from tribal headhunters from around the world. \nOddly, Eleanor doesn't see anything wrong with the collection. \nAt Wendell, Miss Griffin tells Millett to stop sleeping around with his students and counsels Kathy (Holly Hardman), who confesses that she too has been intimate with the professor. \nMiss Griffin, however, seems to have her own ideas about Kathy and she invites the girl to spend the night at her house, resulting the two of them sleeping together. \nThe student is not entirely comfortable, but is enjoying the company. \nMiss Griffin is killed when she gets up to answer the phone, and Kathy is killed shortly after discovering Griffin's head in the toilet. \nJudd is on his way to speak to Miss Griffin when he sees the killer fleeing. \nHe chases the killer to Professor's Millett's apartment. \nWhen inside, it is revealed to be Eleanor. \nShe confesses the killings to her boyfriend and justifies the crimes by comparing them to tribal rituals he teaches in his courses. \nAs the police are closing in, Millett puts on the helmet and flees on his motorcycle to deflect attention from his pregnant girlfriend. \nDuring a chase with Judd and Taj, the professor is struck by a car and killed. \nEleanor attends his burial and the police believe the case has been solved. \nIt is implied that Judd suspects that the killer was Eleanor and that Millett died to protect her, but with the case closed, Judd lets Eleanor go without arresting her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book titled Night School.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School (novel): It is 1996S.\nArmy Major Jack Reacher is issued orders for what is ostensibly classroom training in some unspecified and presumably terminally boring military sub-specialty.\nHe is teamed up with one male agent from the FBI and one male agent from the CIA.\nTheir true assignment is to identify an American who had requested $100 million from certain Middle Eastern contacts in return for unknown merchandise or information.\nReacher determines that he is an enlisted man from Sugarland, Texas, named Horace Wiley who had gone AWOL in a reunified Germany 4 months previously.\nThe next task at hand is to determine exactly what possible threat to national and global security it might be that is fetching the American soldier's asking price of 100 million dollars.\nWhat follows is a very twisted and turning trail of missed opportunities which eventually funnel the pursuers down to a pulse-pounding but ultimately anti-climactic interception.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: \nArmy Major Jack Reacher is issued orders for what is ostensibly classroom training in some unspecified and presumably terminally boring military sub-specialty.\nHe is teamed up with one male agent from the FBI and one male agent from the CIA.\nTheir true assignment is to identify an American who had requested $100 million from certain Middle Eastern contacts in return for unknown merchandise or information.\nReacher determines that he is an enlisted man from Sugarland, Texas, named Horace Wiley who had gone AWOL in a reunified Germany 4 months previously.\nThe next task at hand is to determine exactly what possible threat to national and global security it might be that is fetching the American soldier's asking price of 100 million dollars.\nWhat follows is a very twisted and turning trail of missed opportunities which eventually funnel the pursuers down to a pulse-pounding but ultimately anti-climactic interception.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School
  Maxime wears a Renaissance ring with a cameo of a satyr. He had given this to Gustave five years before their voyage. In return, Gustave gives Maxime a signet ring on which he had Maxime's initials engraved and a slogan whose text is unknown to us. It was a sort of intellectual proposal of marriage, Maxime would later write.
  The Khamsin is blustering. Gustave is blustering. Gustave finds a white chameleon. Maxime strikes it dead. Gustave spots a flying heron. Maxime shoots it. Gustave and Maxime's eyes meet. Their chests heave. Those sea-green eyes, those black lashes. [Deleted] Gustave and Maxime walk through the desert. Gustave and Maxime have been walking through the desert for three days without a drop of water. Take a spoonful and there it towers like a little cathedral; gently spread it between tongue and palate. As it slowly melts, it exudes a fresh, magnificent savor, bathing the uvula, gently stroking the tonsils, sliding down the esophagus (to the latter's boundless delight), and then it reaches the stomach, which veritably cackles in glee. Just between us, a lemon ice is just what the Kusheir Desert needs!
  Hassan el-Bilbezi: a dancer dressed as a woman. "His belly and hips gyrate hypnotically—the belly veritably undulates—and during the grand finale, his pantaloons inflate and open." [Deleted]
  Gustave and Maxime look at each other with some surprise. As if Gustave were seeing Maxime for the very first time. "... What is his name, where could he be living, what about his life, or his past? He would have liked to explore the furnishings in Maxime's room, every last article of his clothing, the people he sees. The desire for physical possession disappeared behind a deeper curiosity, an excruciating curiosity that knew no bounds." [Gustave deletes this remark, and uses it elsewhere. Jean-Pierre mentions nothing of this.] Gustave has a thought: travel is a sentimental education. This pleases him and he writes it down.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about having.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School
  Maxime wears a Renaissance ring with a cameo of a satyr. He had given this to Gustave five years before their voyage. In return, Gustave gives Maxime a signet ring on which he had Maxime's initials engraved and a slogan whose text is unknown to us. It was a sort of intellectual proposal of marriage, Maxime would later write. 
  The Khamsin is blustering. Gustave is blustering. Gustave finds a white chameleon. Maxime strikes it dead. Gustave spots a flying heron. Maxime shoots it. Gustave and Maxime's eyes meet. Their chests heave. Those sea-green eyes, those black lashes. [Deleted] Gustave and Maxime walk through the desert. Gustave and Maxime have been walking through the desert for three days without a drop of water. 
  G: That would be nice, but lemon ice is clearly worthy of having its praises sung. Take a spoonful and there it towers like a little cathedral; gently spread it between tongue and palate. As it slowly melts, it exudes a fresh, magnificent savor, bathing the uvula, gently stroking the tonsils, sliding down the esophagus (to the latter's boundless delight), and then it reaches the stomach, which veritably cackles in glee. Just between us, a lemon ice is just what the Kusheir Desert needs!
  Hassan el-Bilbezi: a dancer dressed as a woman. "His belly and hips gyrate hypnotically—the belly veritably undulates—and during the grand finale, his pantaloons inflate and open. " [Deleted]
  Gustave and Maxime look at each other with some surprise. As if Gustave were seeing Maxime for the very first time. "... What is his name, where could he be living, what about his life, or his past? He would have liked to explore the furnishings in Maxime's room, every last article of his clothing, the people he sees. The desire for physical possession disappeared behind a deeper curiosity, an excruciating curiosity that knew no bounds. " [Gustave deletes this remark, and uses it elsewhere. Jean-Pierre mentions nothing of this. ] Gustave has a thought: travel is a sentimental education. This pleases him and he writes it down.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In England, a certain Dr. Harold Shipman, a serial killer on the loose for years who was also, and no less importantly, the town's GP, was caught because the ladies thoroughly discussed (as they do) the details of their complaints and treatment, while the men kept modestly silent. The good doctor murdered his men patients first, and only later got around to the women. This was his ultimate downfall.
  But let us move on. So what is up with every apple hanging from the branches of trees? The boulders on the ground? The package resting on the table? Fall already!, I shout at the package resting on the table, but it might as well be deaf. Not so much as a quiver. Fall already!, I shout at the boulder on the ground, but it might as well be deaf. Not so much as a quiver. Fall already!, I shout at the apple hanging on the tree branch. And sometimes to no avail. But why aren't they falling??! (Meanwhile I'm quite hoarse from all the yelling.)
  It turns out, it seems that the downward force of gravity is equaled by the upward force of suspension. Because—and this is the essence!—if two forces of equal strength affect the same body in opposite directions (Force versus Counterforce), then—well, then nothing happens. It stays where it is (apparently at rest, but in fact wrestling, so to speak).
  So if, one fine day, the Mantegna Madonna flings herself from the wall of our room (and she has flung herself), not only does that have to do with the tide, but also (so Sir Isaac) the movements of the planets, moons, and comets. And as long as we're getting into scrutinizing the nitty-gritty of the universe, how could we not place these events into their larger intrastellar context? If objects now speak to us, how could we act just as they do, when Force versus Counterforce, etc.—feign deafness to their words? Since if the Mantegna Madonna flings herself down, then one force defeats another—so far, so good. But if you're going for a top grade, you cannot but add:
  While you are in midair, you won't have too much control over events. Get used to that. Gravity is a stern taskmaster, and the water might be deep.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gravity is a stern taskmaster, and the water might be deep. Harold Shipman, a serial killer on the loose for years who was also, and no less importantly, the town's GP, was caught because the ladies thoroughly discussed (as they do) the details of their complaints and treatment, while the men kept modestly silent. The good doctor murdered his men patients first, and only later got around to the women. This was his ultimate downfall.
  But let us move on. So what is up with every apple hanging from the branches of trees? The boulders on the ground? The package resting on the table? Fall already!, I shout at the package resting on the table, but it might as well be deaf. Not so much as a quiver. Fall already!, I shout at the boulder on the ground, but it might as well be deaf. Not so much as a quiver. Fall already!, I shout at the apple hanging on the tree branch. And sometimes to no avail. But why aren't they falling??! (Meanwhile I'm quite hoarse from all the yelling.)
  It turns out, it seems that the downward force of gravity is equaled by the upward force of suspension. Because—and this is the essence!—if two forces of equal strength affect the same body in opposite directions (Force versus Counterforce), then—well, then nothing happens. It stays where it is (apparently at rest, but in fact wrestling, so to speak).
  So if, one fine day, the Mantegna Madonna flings herself from the wall of our room (and she has flung herself), not only does that have to do with the tide, but also (so Sir Isaac) the movements of the planets, moons, and comets. And as long as we're getting into scrutinizing the nitty-gritty of the universe, how could we not place these events into their larger intrastellar context? If objects now speak to us, how could we act just as they do, when Force versus Counterforce, etc.—feign deafness to their words? Since if the Mantegna Madonna flings herself down, then one force defeats another—so far, so good. But if you're going for a top grade, you cannot but add:
  While you are in midair, you won't have too much control over events. Get used to that.In England, a certain Dr.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I'd stepped out to the walkway above the courtyard to take some air on Sunday afternoon, and the neighbors were yelling again as they usually do; they must have been in the streetside room because you couldn't make out what the trouble was between them. From that distance I thought I heard just "Release my right arm from your iron paws, Sanyika, my love." I couldn't make out the response, but a few moments later I heard this: sweetie pie, little bunny, teensy-weensy. It was then.
  At first we scarcely noticed. The only ones who saw were the early risers up with the roosters and the crack of dawn, and sometimes with a sweet little tart, stealing glances as the first rays of day slipped soundlessly in to lick gentle circles around the nape of the neck, the armpit and, one by one, the toes of the sleeper, with precision, all the way to the little toe, inclusively. These happy few could hardly believe their eyes, nor could they be believed by those whom they told in furtive whispers. Oh please, oh wait a minute, oh you'll say anything, and oh good thing you're not trying to sell me a total bill of goods, and the like, crass things, though these poor people were only trying to share their personal experiences. No use. Not a single one of the late risers believed it. You have to get up earlier, they were told, but the whole idea was that, since they got up so early, they saw things the late risers couldn't even imagine, much less believe. [Can you believe something you cannot imagine? Argue pro or con!] So at that point the browbeaten early risers were compelled to split up into small groups and observe the further spread of laughter; even if the late risers did not believe them, at least they could give each other mutual support. Then it all started to really catch on.
  And so this unexpected turn of events directly (and, obviously, in retrospect) precipitated the miraculous return of laughter.
  Emotional forms clash with forms of thought; literary conventions dissolve in her hands. She is a poet and philosopher, bound up crosswise, a pair of her own opposites. Were her textures not so imbued with forms of thought, you might say she was writing prose poetry (or the converse); if a single one of her characters were not so imbued with the forms of emotion, you might call her a philosopher of emotions. Assuming there is such a thing. If there were such a thing.
  Reading the German translation is like reading Hungarian, or as if she'd written it in German to begin with. I sense this when I feel that usual delight in a smile that forms on my face on its own. The text is so forceful that right away it rearranges your facial musculature. The German version has the same effect as the original. The conclusion would be that this kind of joy, if it manages to break through into a foreign language, must be more powerful than the mother tongue itself. It needs to cross closely-guarded geographical borderlines without impediment. Zsófi Bán writes her stories into the interstices between known worlds, yes, but also enters into the gaps between languages themselves; no need to force them open. The Bán smile will show up on the face of every last reader, sometimes it breaks out into a shrill cackle, like a volcanic eruption, raw, explosive, blasting the lava neck out of its millennial cone. Less often, it turns to shock, darkness, gloom, and the sudden recognition of tragedy.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Night School
  The appropriately formal room was deep inside Fort Belvoir in Virginia. Which was close to the Pentagon, which was convenient for the three-star. Convenient for Reacher too, because it was about equally close to Rock Creek, where he had been marking time since he got back. Not so convenient for the other officers, who had flown in from Germany.
  There was some milling around, and some small talk, and some shaking of hands, and then everyone went quiet and lined up and stood to attention, and salutes were exchanged, and medals were variously pinned or draped on, and then there was more milling around and small talk and shaking of hands. Reacher edged toward the door, keen to get out, but the three-star caught him before he made it. The guy shook his hand and kept hold of his elbow, and said, "I hear you're getting new orders."
  The three-star let go of his elbow, and Reacher edged onward, to the door, and through it, and out to a corridor, where a sergeant first-class skidded to a halt and saluted. He was out of breath, like he had run a long way. From a distant part of the installation, maybe, where the real work was done.
  The guy said, "Sir, with General Garber's compliments, he requests that you stop by his office at your earliest convenience."
  Garber's office was in the Pentagon, so Reacher caught a ride with two captains who lived at Belvoir but had afternoon shifts in the B-Ring. Garber had a walled-off room all his own, two rings in, two floors up, guarded by a sergeant at a desk outside the door. Who stood up and led Reacher inside, and announced his name, like an old-time butler in a movie. Then the guy sidestepped and began his retreat, but Garber stopped him and said, "Sergeant, I'd like you to stay."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sinclair said, "We won't get one inside thirty minutes. But we still have a car at the house. We'll know when she's back for the night. That gives us hours."
  The new messenger was touched on the leg by one man and on the bottom by another, but she ignored them both and pushed on through the throng. She wondered if they thought she was an employee of the club. Western behaviors had been explained to her. She could see Wiley up ahead, watching her. A frank and interested stare. Maybe he thought she was an employee, too. She walked up to him and leaned close to his ear, so he could hear above the noise, and she said in carefully practiced English, "I bring greetings from your friends in the east. The elevation of Sugar Land Regional Airport is eighty-two feet above sea level."
  The messenger said, "I believe you agreed on a delivery date. Your friends in the east expect you to honor it."
  She said, "Sir, this is a business arrangement. It can't proceed any further until I get home safe and sound."
  Great struggles require great sacrifices. And it was a small enough price, she thought. The room was dark. No one was looking. They were all watching the stage. She undid the third button. She parted the seams. Wiley looked and smiled.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: But we still have a car at the house. We'll know when she's back for the night. That gives us hours."
  The new messenger was touched on the leg by one man and on the bottom by another, but she ignored them both and pushed on through the throng. She wondered if they thought she was an employee of the club. Western behaviors had been explained to her. She could see Wiley up ahead, watching her. A frank and interested stare. Maybe he thought she was an employee, too. She walked up to him and leaned close to his ear, so he could hear above the noise, and she said in carefully practiced English, "I bring greetings from your friends in the east. The elevation of Sugar Land Regional Airport is eighty-two feet above sea level."
  The messenger said, "I believe you agreed on a delivery date. Your friends in the east expect you to honor it."
  She said, "Sir, this is a business arrangement. It can't proceed any further until I get home safe and sound."
  Great struggles require great sacrifices. And it was a small enough price, she thought. The room was dark. No one was looking. They were all watching the stage. She undid the third button. She parted the seams. Wiley looked and smiled.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He used his other hand, the same way, barely touching her forehead, burying his fingers deep. He left his hand where it ended up, on the back of her neck. Which was slender. And warm. She put her own hand flat on his chest. She slid it up behind his neck. She pulled down and he pulled up. They kissed, suddenly at home again. He found the tiny metal teardrop on the back of her dress. He eased it down, between her shoulder blades, past the small of her back.
  They went to her bedroom, where she climbed on top. She rode him like a cowgirl, but facing him again, hips forward, shoulders back, head up, eyes closed. The diamonds swung and bounced. Her arms were behind her, like the first time, held out away from her body, her wrists bent, her hands open, her palms close to the bed, hovering, skimming an invisible cushion of air, as if she was balancing. Which she was. Like before. She was balancing on a single point, driving all her weight down through it, rocking back and forth, easing side to side, chasing sensation, and finding it, and losing it, and finding it again, all the way to the breathless end.
  The next morning he got to Belvoir early. The same inside room. The same gilt furniture and the same bunch of flags. The Chief of Staff presiding. Which was nice. There were five awards to be made. The first four were Army Commendation Medals, for Hooper, and Neagley, and Orozco, and Reacher. Not as handsome as the Legion of Merit. But not the worst thing he had ever seen. It was a bronze hexagon, with a sculpted eagle. The ribbon was fresh myrtle green with white pinstripes and white edges. A Bronze Star equivalent, except not in a war.
  Afterward there was milling around, and small talk, and shaking of hands. Reacher moved toward the door. No one stopped him. He stepped out to the corridor. No sergeant met him. The rest of the day was his.