human
You do not love your friend, says she.
gpt
I could be so happy too, if you would let me! And then,
human
O, what will I have done that you should hate me so?
gpt
Hate you! cries I, and held her firm.
human
You blind lass, can you not see a little in my wretched heart? Do you think when I set there, reading in that fool-book that I have just burned and be damned to it, I take ever the least thought of any stricken thing but just yourself? Night after night I could have grat to see you sitting there your lone. And what was I to do? You are here under my honour; would you punish me for that? Is it for that that you would spurn a loving servant?