human
A poor place, he said, speaking in as unnatural a tone as possible, while all the time he wondered if the fellow recognised him. And he took heart in recollecting that while he had been subject to this man's brutalities, with scores of other victims, his head had always been either shaved or cropped close and his mustache absent from his face. Now, both hair and mustache were grown again; it might be that the ex-_comite_ could not recall where he had known him.
gpt
A poor place for a good horse! And none too secure, I imagine. It has no door. On a winter night a horse stabled here would be chilled to the bone.
human
It is not winter now, the man replied.
gpt
Your horse will come to no hurt. And we have no thieves in Bayeux. We send them to the galleys!