human
And so, my lad, you think I hate you? she said.
gpt
Why, I should be sorry to be obliged to hate your father's son; or, for that matter, your mother's son either. She was a good, quiet, peaceable sort of young woman. I remember her well, and your grandfather, old Rabbitt, that kept the Castlecombe Arms when I was young. No; I don't hate you. Not a bit! But I'll tell you what I do hate; I hate to see young creatures, that ought by rights to be generous, and trusting, and affectionate, and maybe a little bit foolish--there's a kind of foolishness that's better than over-wisdom in the young--I hate to see 'em setting themselves up, valuing themselves on their 'cuteness; ashamed of them that have gone before 'em. I hate to see 'em hard-hearted to the helpless. Young things may be cruel from thoughtlessness; but, to be cruel out of meanness--well, I'll own I do hate that. But as for you, it comes into my head that perhaps I've been a bit too hard on you.