human
Hold the fort, for I am coming. The incongruity of this made him smile, and he did not write it. Finally he composed this message, which seemed to him to have a businesslike and innocent aspect:
gpt
Too late. Impossible for me to change. Have invested everything. Expect letter. Mechanically he counted the words when he had written this. On the fair presumption that the company would send
human
as one word, there were still two more than the conventional ten, and, from force of habit, he struck out the words
gpt
But he had no sooner done this than he felt a sense of shame. It was contemptible for a man in love to count his words, and it was intolerable to be haggling with himself at such a crisis over the expense of a despatch. He got cold over the thought that Irene might also count them, and see that the cost of this message of passion had been calculated. And with recklessness he added:
human
We reach the Profile House next week, and I am sure I can convince you I am right.