human
Father's infrequent visits to the castle have been brief, and all who have ever known of the stairway are dead or have left Burgundy, save the good people in this house, my mother, my tire-woman, and myself. Three or four years ago, when I was a child, mother and I, unhappy at Ghent and an annoyance to father, came here to live in the castle, and--and--I wonder what Sir Max and Twonette find to talk about--and Twonette and I became friends. I love Twonette dearly, but she is a sly creature, for all she is so demure, and she is bolder than you would think, Sir Karl. These very demure girls are often full of surprises. She has been sitting there in the shadow with Sir Max for half an hour. That, I say, would be bold in any girl. Well, to finish about the staircase: my bedroom, as I told you, was my grandfather's. One day Twonette was visiting me, and we--we--Sir Max, what in the world are you and Twonette talking about? We can't hear a word you say.
gpt
We can't hear what you are saying,
human
I wish you were young, Sir Karl, whispered Yolanda,
gpt
Shall we come to you?
human
No, no, stay where you are, cried Yolanda; then, turning to me,
gpt
Where did I stop?
human
Your bedroom--
gpt
Yes--my bedroom was my grandfather's. One day I had Twonette in to play with me, and we rummaged every nook and corner we could reach. By accident we discovered the movable panel. We pushed it aside, and spurring our bravery by daring each other, we descended the dark stairway step by step until we came suddenly against the oak panel at the foot. We grew frightened and cried aloud for help. Fortunately, Tante Castleman was on the opposite side of the panel in the oak room, and--and--
human
Tante Castleman was--was--It was fortunate she--was in-- She sprang to her feet, exclaiming:
gpt
I'm going to tell Twonette what I think of her boldness in sitting there in the dark with Sir Max. Her father is not here to do it.