conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'Crampton Hodnet'?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Crampton Hodnet
  Anthea had often been kissed by undergraduates before; indeed, she was the chief reason why the sort of young men who generally avoided North Oxford tea parties would condescend to accept an invitation from the Clevelands. She was a tall, slender girl, with golden hair curling onto her shoulders and a gentle, pretty face, not too intelligent but just right for one whose only occupation in life so far had been to fall in love and be fallen in love with. She was wearing a rather sophisticated peasant dress of blue wool, embroidered with little flowers. Simon liked that. He often went to Kitzbühel for the winter sports.
  It is to be hoped that he has no essay to write, thought Miss Doggett drily, as she came into the hall from the cloakroom, where she had been taking off her coat. She found Anthea gazing thoughtfully at a vase of dahlias which stood on the oak chest.
  Miss Doggett sailed majestically into the shabby, comfortable drawing-room. That chintz has faded, she thought with satisfaction; I knew it would. But it's no use telling Margaret anything, she won't listen.
  The Reverend Benjamin Wardell, vicar of St Botolph's, came into the room, followed by his wife, Agnes. He was a short, jolly-looking man, while Mrs Wardell was tall and thin, with a vague expression, and clothes which were untidy through absent-mindedness, rather than from any other cause. She was wearing a smocklike garment of flowered shantung over a blue skirt. On her feet were heavy shoes, the heels caked with mud.
  They went into the dining-room and sat down. Mrs Cleveland carved the cold beef at the sideboard. Mr Cleveland sat staring down at the tablecloth, while Anthea passed round beetroot and potatoes in their jackets.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Crampton Hodnet
  Anthea had often been kissed by undergraduates before; indeed, she was the chief reason why the sort of young men who generally avoided North Oxford tea parties would condescend to accept an invitation from the Clevelands. She was a tall, slender girl, with golden hair curling onto her shoulders and a gentle, pretty face, not too intelligent but just right for one whose only occupation in life so far had been to fall in love and be fallen in love with. She was wearing a rather sophisticated peasant dress of blue wool, embroidered with little flowers. Simon liked that. He often went to Kitzbühel for the winter sports.
  It is to be hoped that he has no essay to write, thought Miss Doggett drily, as she came into the hall from the cloakroom, where she had been taking off her coat. She found Anthea gazing thoughtfully at a vase of dahlias which stood on the oak chest.
  Miss Doggett sailed majestically into the shabby, comfortable drawing-room. That chintz has faded, she thought with satisfaction; I knew it would. But it's no use telling Margaret anything, she won't listen.
  The Reverend Benjamin Wardell, vicar of St Botolph's, came into the room, followed by his wife, Agnes. He was a short, jolly-looking man, while Mrs Wardell was tall and thin, with a vague expression, and clothes which were untidy through absent-mindedness, rather than from any other cause. She was wearing a smocklike garment of flowered shantung over a blue skirt. On her feet were heavy shoes, the heels caked with mud.
  They went into the dining-room and sat down. Mrs Cleveland carved the cold beef at the sideboard.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know two more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Now, thought Miss Morrow, we shall behave like normal beings again. He won't rush out of the room after Miss Doggett rather than be left alone with me. So ends a Great Love. In a tool shed. She found the idea rather pleasing and began to laugh.
  She picked her way across the sodden lawn and slipped quietly into the drawing-room, where Lady Beddoes, Miss Doggett and all the more important people were having tea. The conversation was dominated by Simon, who was explaining in a loud, clear voice and simple, non-political language the points he proposed to make in his speech at the Union on Thursday.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last four paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'And then she remembered that there was really no need to sit in a North Oxford dining-room at ten past three on a wet Sunday afternoon thinking about death and graves unless one wanted to'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: And then she remembered that there was really no need to sit in a North Oxford dining-room at ten past three on a wet Sunday afternoon thinking about death and graves unless one wanted to. A simple movement could fill the room with rich, unsuitable music from Radio Luxembourg. She switched on the wireless, and the sound of it poured out into the room. Except for a slight scratchiness of the records it might have been the very same music that she had listened to this time a year ago, for modern dance tunes sounded very much alike to Miss Morrow's unworldly ear.
  After twenty minutes of music Miss Morrow went upstairs to change her dress, and shortly afterwards the rustle of mackintoshes was heard in the hall.
  In they came, a great herd of them all at once, Michael and Gabriel, Mr Bompas, Willie Teep, Miss Jennings and Miss Matador from Somerville, and, at the end, a thin, nervous young man with spectacles, who did not look as if he would be at all equal to the rich cakes which had been made in his honour – Viscount St Pancras.
  If Jane Cleveland and Prudence Bates seem an unlikely pair to be walking together at an Oxford reunion, neither of them is aware of it. They couldn't be more different: Jane is an incompetent vicar's wife who always looks as if she's about to feed the chickens, while Prudence, a pristine hothouse flower, has the most unsuitable affairs. With the move to a rural parish, Jane is determined to find her friend the perfect man. She learns, though, that matchmaking has as many pitfalls as housewifery...