human
I--I don’t like Sally, faltered Dorothy.
gpt
She put somefing in a pan, up high. And when I pulled, it covered me all up.
human
That’s the end of the picnic, girls. Peggy spoke with forced calm.
gpt
The end, as far as I’m concerned. Bread-sponge all the way from here to the kitchen. Bread-sponge in her hair and her eyebrows.
human
cried poor little Dorothy.
gpt
I’d just as soon go to the picnic all sticky.