human
I understand exactly what you are thinking about me, Stanton said.
gpt
You must feel I am mad or a brute to want this child to go with me across the desert, to share the fate all Europe is prophesying.
human
It's glory to share it, broke in Sanda, in a voice like a harp.
gpt
Do I care what happens to me if I can be with you?
human
She _is_ a child--an infatuated child! But shouldn't I be more--or less--than a man, if I could let such a stroke of luck pass by me? You see, she wants to go.
gpt
said Sanda.
human
I told him in Algiers when I was so miserable, thinking that I should never see you again, and that you didn't care.
gpt
Of course I cared, Stanton contradicted her warmly; yet there was a difference in his tone. To Max's ears, it did not ring true.
human
Seeing a grown-up Sanda, when I'd always kept in my mind's eye a little girl, bowled me over. I made excuses to get away in a hurry, didn't I? It was the bravest thing I ever did. I knew I wasn't a marble statue. But it was another thing keeping my head in broad daylight on the terrace of a hotel, with a lot of dressed-up creatures coming and going, from what it is here in the desert at night, with that mad music playing me away into the unknown, and a girl like Sanda flashing down like a falling star.
gpt
The star fell into your arms, and you saved it from extinction,
human
I caught it on its way somewhere else! But how can I let it go when it wants to shine for me? How can I be _expected_ to let it go? I ask you that, St. George!