human
Auntie Anthea
gpt
She says it's a head-ache, said Small Porges,
human
The hops, my Porges?
gpt
She's worrying about them,--she's 'fraid of a storm, like Adam is. An' when she worries,--I worry. Oh Uncle Porges!--if only my prayers can bring the Money Moon--soon, you know,--very soon! If they don't bring it in a day or two,--'fraid I shall wake up, one fine morning, an' find I've worried, an' worried myself into an old man.
human
Never fear, Shipmate! said Bellew in his most nautical manner,
gpt
Good-night