human
Will she anchor, Mr. Kenny, or come in to moor direct?
gpt
Direct, my dear. Mr. Kenny was beaming, a hand on the girl's arm.
human
Did your father ever make me pay lighterage if he could help it?
gpt
What a pert breeze! I vow I'm brave to be out in it.
human
This little air? Why, Faith, it would scarce raise a kite for a running boy. Anyway 'twas no breeze put the brier roses in your cheeks, you was born with those, well I remember.