human
Jeff, I insist on your doing what I wish. It is unkind of you to drag me into a dispute when I am so weak. Tell the dear girl that I give her up--I release her from our engagement. It is likely that I shall die at any rate, which will settle the question, but if I do recover--why, just think, my dear fellow, I put it to you, what sort of husband should I make, with my ribs all smashed, my right leg cut off, my left hand destroyed, an eye gone, and my whole visage cut to pieces. No, Jeff--
gpt
No, Bella must never see me again.
human
I'm sorry, Nicholas, very sorry, said I,