human
Dear me, Violet, why can't you write downstairs like a Christian, he began fretfully, turning up his coat collar and plunging his hands into his trouser pockets.
gpt
All this affectation of needing quiet and solitude for such work as yours is simply ridiculous.
human
I'm sorry, Ferdie, she said gently,
gpt
Poor little Hilary! Damn nonsense! I slept very badly last night, and had just got nicely off this morning about half-past nine, when he came into my room and waked me--wanted my boot-jack for a boat, little beast!
human
Oh, I _am_ sorry--I told him he mustn't disturb you. I'd just gone down to show Jessie how to make the mince----
gpt
Jessie's cooking is abominable. I don't know why you haven't got someone by this time.
human
What I want to know is about my rooms at Torquay. Has Mrs. Bishop written?
gpt
Yes. Her letter came this morning. I've got it somewhere here --she rummaged about, but failed to find the letter.
human
I must have left it downstairs. She says she can't let you have the front room, because some general has got it and is going to stay all winter.
gpt
Damnation! Just the kind of thing that always happens to me.