human
Nick always has kept First Joy, too,
gpt
And you’ll play again for me, Donelle?
human
Sometime, dear man, sometime I’ll bring the fiddle to the wood-cabin. Sometime after I get strings. The strings, some of them, have snapped.
gpt
Where are the children?
human
Out on the road, the road! Jo’s face quivered.
gpt
The moonlight is wonderful, the road is as clear as day.
human
Queer ideas that young Gavot had about roads, Law said musingly,
gpt
Jim has told me.
human
Poor boy, he got precious little for himself out of life,