human
Charity, my dear, what lucky wind----
gpt
Sir, Faith said I'd best be the one to bring word, seeing Mama is prostrated and--and so--so I----
human
Breathe slow, my dear, said the old man, no longer smiling.
gpt
Count to four, my dear, then to eight by twos. Now: two, four, six----
human
Eight, ten, twelve, said Charity, and shuddered.
gpt
Pray don't be prostrated, Mr. Kenny, the way Mama said you was sure to be. I'd not know what to do.
human
Now sit thee down, said John Kenny.
gpt
I shall undertake not to be prostrated, and a'n't thy bonnet-strings a little tight?
human
Mama saith, never no such thing happened here in all her time. My father--he--well, when they brought the news he heard something and came downstairs, but he--but he....
gpt
Allow me, said Reuben, urging the fingers to open and relax. They did so, as Charity stared up at him in a trance of observation. He patted the hand and set it back on the table.
human
I think, Charity, my Uncle John would prefer not to have bad news broken gently. Am I right, sir? Better to hear it quick and plain?
gpt
Much better.