human
I trust them to you, she said.
gpt
There’s an old nurse of mine lives up in a fold of the hills yonder. They will not find me there, and I care little if they do. Meanwhile, I shall get down each night and morning to pray for the soul of a gallant gentleman who has unlocked the Gate —her eyes were luminous with a temperate fire—
human
Madam, he said, his roughness broken up, as honest moorland soil is broken when it is asked to rear pleasant crops—
gpt
I shall pray, sir.