human
Thank God! said Hume, as he threw down his whip on the far side of the great river,
gpt
It seemed to me, said Miss Anstrade,
human
And I, said Webster, looking at his travel-stained clothes,
gpt
We are like a party of disreputable gipsies, said Miss Anstrade, with a look at Hume, whose boots were torn, and whose outward appearance was scarcely an improvement on the many-patched garments of Klaas.
human
Let us get into a new outfit, and do you men act the barber to each other.
gpt
Before recovering our respectability, said Hume,