human
Dafternoon,
gpt
Good afternoon,
human
Gladda meecher, siz Pett. Mr. Sturge semme up. Said y'ad job f'r me. Came here squick scould.
gpt
I beg your pardon?
human
Squick scould. Got slow taxi.
gpt
Oh, yes.
human
Whass trouble? The right eye rested for a moment on a magnificent Corot over the mantelpiece, and she snifted again.
gpt
Not s'prised y'have trouble. All rich people 've trouble. Noth' t'do with their time 'cept get 'nto trouble.
human
You--ah--appear to dislike the rich,