human
Doctor Marigold, --I give his words without a hope of conweying their feebleness,--
gpt
--
human
The strange young _man_? I gives him back, thinking that he meant her, and his languid circulation had dropped a syllable.
gpt
Doctor, he returns, with a pathos calculated to draw a tear from even a manly eye,
human
I am weak, but not so weak yet as that I don't know my words. I repeat them, Doctor. The strange young man.