human
These Romans! she exclaimed at last.
gpt
They believe that there is nobody like themselves!
human
My dear, he said gently.
gpt
You have married an artist. What would you have? I am sure, people have received us very well.
human
Very well! Of course--as though we had not the right to be received well. But, Angelo--do not say such things--that I have married an artist--
gpt
It is quite true, he answered, with a smile.
human
I work with my hands. They do not. There is the difference.
gpt
But you are the greatest artist in the world! she cried enthusiastically, throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing him again and again.
human
It is ridiculous. In any other city, in London, in Paris, people would run after you, people would not be able to do enough for you. But it is not you; it is I. They do not like me, Angelo, I know that they do not like me! They want me at their big parties, and they want me to sing for them--but that is all. Not one of them wants me for a friend. I am so lonely, Angelo.
gpt
What does it matter, my heart? he asked, soothingly.
human
We have each other, have we not? I, who adore you, and you, who love me--
gpt
Love you? I worship you! That is why I wish you to have everything the world holds, everything at your feet.
human
But I am quite satisfied, objected Reanda, with unwise truth.
gpt
Do not think of me.