conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a title for a book about Rose, Fountain, Jade with the genre: Children's Books, Science Fiction & Fantasy
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Rose and the Lost Princess'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rose and the Lost Princess
  Enjoying the quiet, Rose leaned against the window, staring out at the last few browning leaves of the wisteria that climbed up the wall and feeling the smooth chill of the glass against her cheek.
  She jumped as a soft, insistent white head butted against her arm, and Gus squirmed into her lap, kneading her apron to the right consistency with determined paws.
  Gus wriggled onto his back and yawned, showing a bright pink tongue and shark-like teeth. His stomach was round and soft and tufty, framed by delicately hanging paws. Rose was tempted to stroke it but suspected that Gus might claw her for being overly familiar.
  Gus sniffed irritably and opened both eyes to glare at her. "Well, it's entirely your own fault for being so ridiculously stubborn. Why you persist in working as a housemaid and trying to be a magician's apprentice at the same time is completely beyond me. You have to choose one or the other."
  Rose didn't answer. He'd said it several times, and today she felt weary enough to wonder if he was actually right. He quite often was, having a cat's natural cunning coupled with a hefty dollop of magic. But it still seemed odd, being advised by a cat.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rose looked up in surprise. She didn't either, but she couldn't say quite why. She hadn't expected Bill to pick up on the strange sensation the globe gave off—she'd thought he would call it a silly trinket, that was all.
  Even if it had cost Rose a hundred guineas, she still wouldn't have trusted it. She tucked it reluctantly into her little bag, wishing she could just stuff it into a snowdrift instead. But she had a feeling that wouldn't work. It might follow her.
  It seemed to weigh her down as they walked back, though it wasn't really that heavy. Rose dragged her feet, still cursed with those stupid galoshes, and sighed.
  Rose smiled at him briefly. "No. I'm glad about that. I'd miss you if you didn't talk to me. But seeing the way everybody hissed at him, Bill...even if I don't trust that man, he was what I am. I do know, really, you see. I knew then, when everyone was hating him. Me. Us."
  Bill nodded. "That's why you're glooming then?" His voice was doubtful. "Isn't it good to know what you are?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mr. Fountain stayed silent for almost the whole of the coach journey home. Freddie and Rose exchanged curious glances, but somehow the silence infected them too, and they didn't dare to break it. Even Gus perched on Mr. Fountain's shoulder and glared out of the window at the darkening streets.