human
Aunt Graves always made it her business to
gpt
after the morals of the preacher.
human
Men are but men, she used to say,
gpt
Sometimes she would lecture him of the log-chapel for hours upon evidences of piety, acts of immorality, the importance of circumspection, the great danger that surrounded him--her tongue buzzing all the while like a mill-wheel, propelled as it was by so much zeal. She said it almost made her
human
Sister Abigail wasn't anybody in particular--that is, she was not exactly a free agent. She was
gpt
Aunt Graves's shadow--a reflection of her; a kind of person that said what
human
Aunt Graves said, and did what she did, and knew what she knew, and got angry when she did, and over it when she did. She was a kind of dial that
gpt
Aunt Graves shone upon, and any one could tell what time of day it was with
human
Aunt Graves, by looking at
gpt
Sister Abigail.