human
That mountain-top, all jagged and high--my! how it just makes me want to climb; climb through my work all day long; climb to getting somewhere out beyond. And that great empty picture with the awful white wave coming from nowhere--it just makes me hold my breath. Sometimes it seems as if it was going to swallow up everything and--me. It don't ever do that, does it, Mr. Gaston?
gpt
It has done damage of that kind in its time; but generally it obeys orders and stops at the safety line.
human
I like the--picture--I like it terribly, breathed the girl,
gpt
Gaston nodded, and old memories seemed beating in upon him.
human
It would wear me out by its own----
gpt
Restlessness. Gaston's thought ran along with the cruder one.
human
Its restlessness is at times--unbearable, unless--one is very young and happy.
gpt
But I am young--and happy. Joyce spoke lingeringly and her eyes grew fixed upon the heart of the coals.
human
Still I would hate it--and be afraid of it. It's beautiful--but it's awful. I don't like awful things. I like to look up at that brave old mountain, and know--it will always be the same no matter what happens down below.
gpt
So the mountain is your favourite picture, Joyce?