conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a description for a book titled The Man Who Would Be King about Eliza, Lorenzo, Windmere with the genre: Romance, Contemporary?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Eliza Windmere had never dreamed she would command the attention of a king! But when this royal-watching reporter discovered evidence that the missing crown prince was alive, she felt duty-bound to help the royal family recover one of their own -- even if that meant pairing up with the devastatingly handsome Duke Lorenzo Sebastiani. Not only was Lorenzo next in line for the throne, he was irresistibly handsome, relentlessly charming -- and just about the last man a woman like Eliza should ever fall in love with. But fall in love she did. Now, as she searched side by side with the rugged royal, she dreamed of one day being his bride....
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: . Not only was Lorenzo next in line for the throne, he was irresistibly handsome, relentlessly charming -- and just about the last man a woman like Eliza should ever fall in love with. But fall in love she did. Now, as she searched side by side with the rugged royal, she dreamed of one day being his bride...Eliza Windmere had never dreamed she would command the attention of a king! But when this royal-watching reporter discovered evidence that the missing crown prince was alive, she felt duty-bound to help the royal family recover one of their own -- even if that meant pairing up with the devastatingly handsome Duke Lorenzo Sebastiani.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a plot for a book titled The Man Who Would Be King?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Man Who Would Be King (film): In 1885, while working as a correspondent at the offices of the Northern Star newspaper in India, Rudyard Kipling (Christopher Plummer) is approached by a ragged, seemingly crazed derelict, who reveals himself to be his old acquaintance Peachy Carnehan (Michael Caine).\nPeachy tells Kipling the story of how he and his comrade-in-arms Daniel "Danny" Dravot (Sean Connery) traveled to remote Kafiristan (in modern-day Afghanistan, the province is now known as Nuristan), became "gods", and ultimately lost everything.\nThree years earlier.\nDravot and Carnehan had met Kipling under less than auspicious circumstances; Carnehan, a former Colour sergeant of the Queen\'s Own Royal Loyal Light Infantry, pickpocketed Kiplings\'s pocketwatch but was forced to return it as he was a fellow Freemason.\nCarnehan claims to be an expert in "whiskey, women, waistcoats and bills of fare".\nBoth Dravot and Carnehan are in the process of blackmailing a local Rajah by posing as newspaper correspondents of "The Northern Star" newspaper-which outrages the real correspondent (Kipling).\nIn order to save their lives Kipling has the local district commissioner detain both Dravot and Carnehan - who obliquely blackmail the commissioner himself.\nDespite being accomplished gun smugglers, swindlers, fencers of stolen goods, conmen, and blackmailers, both of them are bitter that after fighting to make India part of the Empire, they will have little to return home to except dead-end jobs.\nBoth Dravot and Carnehan turn up at Kipling\'s office-and explain their biggest gamble yet: feeling that India is too small for men such as themselves, they intend to travel to Kafiristan, help a local king overcome his enemies, overthrow him, and become "gods"/rulers themselves before stealing various riches and returning to England in triumph.\nAfter signing a contract pledging mutual loyalty and forswearing drink and women until they achieved their grandiose aims, Peachy and Danny (taking along twenty Martini Henry rifles) set off on an epic overland journey north beyond the Khyber Pass.\nKipling, after attempting to dissuade the men, gives Dravot his masonic emblem as a token of brotherhood.\nFighting off bandits, blizzards, and avalanches, they make their way into the unknown land of Kafiristan (literally "Land of the Infidels").\nThey chance upon a Gurkha soldier who goes by the name Billy Fish (Saeed Jaffrey), the sole survivor of a missing mapping expedition sent several years earlier which had been lost in an avalanche.\nBilly speaks English as well as the local tongue.\nActing as translator and interpreter of customs and manners, he smooths the path of Peachy and Danny as they begin their rise, offering their services as military advisors, trainers, and war leaders to the chief of the much-raided village of Er-Heb.\nPeachy and Danny muster a force to attack the villagers\' most-hated enemy, the Bashkai.\nDuring the battle, Danny is struck by an arrow, but is unharmed, leading the natives to believe that he is a god.\nIn fact, the arrow was stopped by a bandolier hidden beneath his clothing.\nAs victory follows victory, the defeated are recruited to join the swelling army.\nFinally, nobody is left to stand in their way, and they are summoned to the holy city of Sikandergul, where the chief high priest, Kafu Selim, sets up a re-enactment of the arrow incident, to determine whether Danny is a man or a god by seeing whether or not he bleeds.\nWhen Danny flinches, the monks grab him and open his shirt, only to be stopped by Danny\'s Masonic jewel.\nBy coincidence, the symbol on the jewel matches one known only to the highest holy man, the symbol of "Sikander" (a linguistic corruption of Alexander the Great), who had conquered the country thousands of years before and promised to return.\nThe holy men are convinced Danny is the son of Sikander.\nThey hail him as king and lead the two men down to storerooms heaped with treasure that belonged to Sikander, which now belongs to Danny.\nAs the months pass, Peachy is anxious to leave with the treasure before winter closes the passes (and before the natives learn the truth about them).\nDanny is against it, however, and develops delusions of grandeur.\nFirst, Danny \'suggests\' that Peachy bow to him like the others, ostensibly to "keep up appearances" in front of the natives and continue the deception.\nHe adjudicates disputes among local people and villages, and issues proclamations overseeing their administration.\nHe begins making plans to turn the land into a modern country, to the extent that he envisages eventually meeting Queen Victoria "as an equal".\nResigned that Danny\'s mind is made up, Peachy decides to take as much loot as he can carry on a small mule train and leave alone.\nMeanwhile, Danny decides to take a wife after seeing the beautiful Roxanne (Shakira Caine), despite Peachy\'s strong warnings.\nRoxanne, having a superstitious fear that she will burst into flames if she consorts with a god, tries frantically to escape, biting Danny during the wedding ceremony.\nThe bite draws blood, and when everyone sees it, they realize that Danny is human after all.\nThe angry natives pursue Danny and Peachy.\nWhen it becomes clear that the battle is lost, Peachy and Danny offer Billy a horse to escape, but Billy refuses and wishes them luck before courageously charging into the mob with a kukri singlehandedly.\nBilly is killed amidst the mob and Peachy and Danny are soon captured.\nDanny apologizes to Peachy for spoiling their plans, and Peachy forgives him.\nNow resigned to his fate, Danny is forced to walk to the middle of a rope bridge over a deep gorge as the ropes are cut.\nPeachy is crucified between two pine trees, but he is cut down the next day when he survives the ordeal.\nEventually, he makes his way back to India, but his mind has become unhinged by his sufferings.\nAs Peachy finishes his story, he presents Kipling with Danny\'s severed head, still wearing its crown, thereby confirming the tale.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book? Start with the sentence 'The Man Who Would Be King
  The law, as quoted, lays down a fair conduct of life, and one not easy to follow'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Man Who Would Be King
  The law, as quoted, lays down a fair conduct of life, and one not easy to follow. I have been fellow to a beggar again and again under circumstances which prevented either of us finding out whether the other was worthy. I have still to be brother to a Prince, though I once came near to kinship with what might have been a veritable King, and was promised the reversion of a Kingdom—army, law-courts, revenue, and policy all complete. But, today, I greatly fear that my King is dead, and if I want a crown I must go hunt it for myself.
  The beginning of everything was in a railway train upon the road to Mhow from Ajmir. There had been a Deficit in the Budget, which necessitated travelling, not Second-class, which is only half as dear as First-class, but by Intermediate, which is very awful indeed. There are no cushions in the Intermediate class, and the population are either Intermediate, which is Eurasian, or native, which for a long night journey is nasty, or Loafer, which is amusing though intoxicated. Intermediates do not buy from refreshment-rooms. They carry their food in bundles and pots, and buy sweets from the native sweetmeat-sellers, and drink the road-side water. That is why in the hot weather Intermediates are taken out of the carriages dead, and in all weathers are most properly looked down upon.
  My particular Intermediate happened to be empty till I reached Nasirabad, when a big black-browed gentleman in shirt-sleeves entered, and, following the custom of Intermediates, passed the time of day. He was a wanderer and a vagabond like myself, but with an educated taste for whisky. He told tales of things he had seen and done, of out-of-the-way corners of the Empire into which he had penetrated, and of adventures in which he risked his life for a few days' food.
  We talked politics—the politics of Loaferdom, that see things from the underside where the lath and plaster is not smoothed off—and we talked postal arrangements because my friend wanted to send a telegram back from the next station to Ajmir, the turning-off place from the Bombay to the Mhow line as you travel westward. My friend had no money beyond eight annas, which he wanted for dinner, and I had no money at all, owing to the hitch in the Budget before mentioned. Further, I was going into a wilderness where, though I should resume touch with the Treasury, there were no telegraph offices. I was, therefore, unable to help him in any way.
  Englishmen are not usually softened by appeals to the memory of their mothers, but for certain reasons, which will be fully apparent, I saw fit to agree.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: One Saturday night it was my pleasant duty to put the paper to bed alone. A King or courtier or a courtesan or a Community was going to die or get a new Constitution, or do something that was important on the other side of the world, and the paper was to be held open till the latest possible minute in order to catch the telegram.
  Then the roar and rattle of the wheels shivered the quiet into little bits. I rose to go away, but two men in white clothes stood in front of me. The first one said: 'It's him!' The second said: 'So it is!' And they both laughed almost as loudly as the machinery roared, and mopped their foreheads. 'We seed there was a light burning across the road, and we were sleeping in that ditch there for coolness, and I said to my friend here, The office is open. Let's come along and speak to him as turned us back from the Degumber State,' said the smaller of the two. He was the man I had met in the Mhow train, and his fellow was the red-bearded man of Marwar Junction. There was no mistaking the eyebrows of the one or the beard of the other.
  I was not pleased, because I wished to go to sleep, not to squabble with loafers. 'What do you want?' I asked.
  I left them still poring over the maps and making notes on the back of the 'Contrack'. 'Be sure to come down to the Serai tomorrow,' were their parting words.
  The Kumharsen Serai is the great four-square sink of humanity where the strings of camels and horses from the North load and unload. All the nationalities of Central Asia may be found there, and most of the folk of India proper. Balkh and Bokhara there meet Bengal and Bombay, and try to draw eye-teeth. You can buy ponies, turquoises, Persian pussy-cats, saddle-bags, fat-tailed sheep and musk in the Kumharsen Serai, and get many strange things for nothing. In the afternoon I went down to see whether my friends intended to keep their word or were lying there drunk.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: One Saturday night it was my pleasant duty to put the paper to bed alone. A King or courtier or a courtesan or a Community was going to die or get a new Constitution, or do something that was important on the other side of the world, and the paper was to be held open till the latest possible minute in order to catch the telegram.
  Then the roar and rattle of the wheels shivered the quiet into little bits. I rose to go away, but two men in white clothes stood in front of me. The first one said: 'It's him!' The second said: 'So it is!' And they both laughed almost as loudly as the machinery roared, and mopped their foreheads. 'We seed there was a light burning across the road, and we were sleeping in that ditch there for coolness, and I said to my friend here, The office is open. Let's come along and speak to him as turned us back from the Degumber State,' said the smaller of the two. He was the man I had met in the Mhow train, and his fellow was the red-bearded man of Marwar Junction. There was no mistaking the eyebrows of the one or the beard of the other.
  I was not pleased, because I wished to go to sleep, not to squabble with loafers. 'What do you want?' I asked.
  I left them still poring over the maps and making notes on the back of the 'Contrack'. 'Be sure to come down to the Serai tomorrow,' were their parting words.
  The Kumharsen Serai is the great four-square sink of humanity where the strings of camels and horses from the North load and unload. All the nationalities of Central Asia may be found there, and most of the folk of India proper. Balkh and Bokhara there meet Bengal and Bombay, and try to draw eye-teeth. You can buy ponies, turquoises, Persian pussy-cats, saddle-bags, fat-tailed sheep and musk in the Kumharsen Serai, and get many strange things for nothing.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last three paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'He shambled out of the office and departed in the direction of the Deputy Commissioner's house'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He shambled out of the office and departed in the direction of the Deputy Commissioner's house. That day at noon I had occasion to go down the blinding hot Mall, and I saw a crooked man crawling along the white dust of the roadside, his hat in his hand, quavering dolorously after the fashion of street-singers at Home. There was not a soul in sight, and he was out of all possible earshot of houses. And he sang through his nose, turning his head from right to left:
  I waited to hear no more, but put the poor wretch into my carriage and drove him off to the nearest missionary for eventual transfer to the Asylum. He repeated the hymn twice while he was with me, whom he did not in the least recognize, and I left him singing it to the missionary.
  HybridBooks are a union of print and electronic media designed to provide a uniquely entertaining experience for readers.