human
I wish we had set you free, Silas, said uncle,
gpt
Mawse Ben, cried the slave, with strange earnestness,
human
For the creditors, you mean, Silas, said my aunt;
gpt
Do it all go to de credito's anyhow, Miss 'Liza, no matteh how much us bring? and when aunt said yes, Sidney murmured to her mother,
human
I tol' you dat.
gpt
Now don't you fret one bit 'bout dat, Mawse Ben, exclaimed Sidney, with a happy heroism in her eyes that I remembered afterward.
human
Strange, said my aunt to uncle and me aside, smiling in pity,