human
I would as soon spend a week-end with a well-bred block of ice, he confided to me on his return.
gpt
He was courteous, hospitable--nothing too much trouble to make me comfortable. We talked by the hour of fellows who'd been at school with us, things we'd done--you know, endless ridiculous anecdotes of how somebody's leg had been pulled, how we'd got into some appalling row together. As a rule I find school 'shop' rather fun, but Raney might have been reciting the kings of England with their dates. He was utterly lifeless and mechanical; never a smile.... When we went into Common Room for dinner, he played up and was a different man; _they_ chaffed _him_, and _he_ chaffed _them_, and we dug out more school 'shop' and he threw himself into it heart and soul. It was the same on Sunday, when a pack of his boys came and talked to him after evening chapel; he didn't let _them_ see there was anything up. It had been the same when the enigmatic Miss Merryon came in the morning; the usual smile.... Of course, he never came within a thousand miles of mentioning it.... When I left on Monday, I told him that I wanted to invite myself again before the end of the term, and then we did get to grips a bit. He shook hands and said, 'Look here, old man, it spoils your week-end and--I don't want to be ungracious--it doesn't do me any good. I've got to go through this alone.