human
What Englishman?
gpt
Who knows? An Englishman. They called him Sor Angoscia. Nanna sat down on the heavy box, and dropped her skinny hands far apart upon her knees.
human
We have cursed him much. He took our daughter. It was a night of evil. In that night the abbess died, and Sister Maria Addolorata was burned in her cell, and the Englishman took our daughter. He took our one daughter, Signora. We have not seen her more, not even her little finger. It will be twenty-two years on the eve of the feast of St. Luke. That is in October, Signora. He took our daughter. Poor little one! She was young, young--perhaps she did not know what she did.
gpt
She was a flower, said Nanna, simply.
human
He tore her from us with the roots. Who knows what he did with her? She will be dead by this time. May the Madonna obtain grace for her! Signora, she seemed one of those flowers that grow on the hillside, just as God wills. Rain, sun, she was always fresh. Then came the storm. Who could find her any more? Poor little one!
gpt
Poor child!
human
Signora, if you wish to see, I will content you,