human
What do you mean? demanded the irate author.
gpt
What business have you butting in here like this? Get out!
human
I--
gpt
Get out! thundered Harlan. It sounded strangely like the last phrase of
human
and, trembling, the disconsolate poet obeyed. He fled to his own room as a storm-tossed ship to its last harbour, and renewed the composition of his epic on
gpt
Disappointment,
human
Did I write it? asked Harlan, of himself,