conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled No Wind of Blame about with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author who wrote over fifty novels died in 1974.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: No Wind of Blame
  Vicky, speeding up the path to the house, reached the lawn where her hammock hung just as Hugh Dering came out of the drawing-room through the long open windows.
  Though Vicky could not appear to turn pale, she could flush quite unmistakably, and did so, stamping her foot, and darting so flashing a look at Hugh that he ought to have been withered on the spot. 'I now know that you're a beast, and practically reeking of mothballs, or whatever it is you put with blankets, and winter coats, and everything else that's completely fusty! Also, you're as unfeeling as a cabbage, which is another thing you remind me of, and I suppose if you saw anyone stretched dead at your feet, you wouldn't shed a tear, but would just pass it off as a poor joke or something!'
  Hugh stared at her suspiciously. 'Look here, are you putting on one of your acts?' he demanded. 'If not, what in the devil's name are you talking about?'
  Hugh grasped her by the shoulders, and shook her. 'Stop talking in cypher, and pull yourself together! What's happened?'
  The same thought which Harold White had given utterance to, that Wally had very nearly been shot the day before, slid into Hugh's mind. He did not, however, speak of it, but turned his attention to the present task of soothing Vicky. She showed every sign of nervous collapse, and it was with a feeling of relief that he saw Mary come out of the house towards them.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Prince said uneasily: 'You ask me what I do not understand. Certainly I use a nail-file! Why should I not tell you, since you are so curious?'
  He waited until the door had closed behind the Prince before turning an expressive gaze upon his Sergeant. That grave-eyed man shook his head. 'I wouldn't have believed it!' he said.
  The Sergeant frowned. 'I wouldn't say, myself, we'd got quite enough on him, sir,' he suggested diffidently.
  He went out into the hall. The door into the drawing-room stood open, and he could see Vicky Fanshawe, perched on the arm of a chair. He walked across the hall, and went into the drawing-room. Only the two girls and Hugh Dering were there, for Ermyntrude had gone upstairs to dress for dinner, and the Prince seemed to have followed her example.
  Vicky flung out a hand. 'Don't leave us!' she said throbbingly. 'Can't you see that we may need you?'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' 'Mary, is that the truth? I thought— And he's so much nearer you in age, that I made sure—''.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Hugh, who had stayed to dine at Palings, shook hands with him. 'Thanks. But I think you've got some rather different news, haven't you?'
  Ermyntrude arose suddenly from the sofa. 'Told Alan!' she said scornfully. 'Yes, I see him keeping himself quiet, let alone anyone else! The idea of your leaving the poor girl with only Alan and that blowsy, good-for-nothing maid of theirs! Well, I thought you'd have more sense, Maurice, I must say! Why didn't you bundle her into your car, and bring her straight up here, and that silly, feckless brother of hers as well, for heaven knows what he mayn't do, left to himself !'
  Ermyntrude sailed upstairs to put on a wrap for the journey to the Dower House, but Mary was overtaken, with her hand already on the baluster-rail, by Dr Chester. He put his hand over hers, and clasped it. 'Mary, that engagement!'
  She found herself unable to meet his eyes. 'Yes, were you surprised? I was the only person who knew it was blowing up.'
  His clasp on her hand tightened. 'Mary, is that the truth? I thought— And he's so much nearer you in age, that I made sure—'