human
All right, Tom, piped the Doctor,
gpt
Well, then, he began as he looked at the floor before him,
human
he exclaimed with emotion,
gpt
How could I get up before a jury and feel them out man by man as I talked if I wasn't sensitive to these things? You've seen me make them cry when I was in the practice. How could I make them cry if I didn't feel like crying myself. You're a doctor--you know that. People forget what I am--what a thousand stringed instrument I am. Now, Doctor Jim, let me tell you something. This is the bottom hard pan of the truth: I never before really cared for these women--these other women--when I got them. But I do care for the chase, I do care for the risk of it--for the exhilaration of it--for the joy of it!
human
Don't cut in, Doc Jim--let me say it all out. I'm young. I love the moonlight and the stars and I never go through a wood that I do not see trysting places there--and I never see a great stretch of prairie under the sunshine that I do not put in a beautiful woman and go following her--not for her--Doctor Jim, but for the joy of pursuit, for the thrill of uncovering a bared, naked soul, and the overwhelming danger of it. God--man, I've stood afraid to breathe, flattened against a wall and heard the man-beast growl and sniff, hunting me. I love to love and be loved; but not less do I love to hunt and be hunted. I've hidden under trees, I've skulked in the shadows, I've walked boldly in the sunlight with my life in my hand to meet a woman's eyes, to feel her guilty shudder in my arms. Oh, Doctor Jim, you don't understand the riot in my blood that the moon makes shining through the trees upon the water, with great, shadowy glades, and the tinkle of cow bells far away, and a woman afraid of me--and I afraid of her--and nothing but the stars and the night between us.
gpt
It's always been so with me--as early as my boyhood it was so. I often wake in the lonely nights and think of them all over again--the days and nights, the girls and women who have flashed bright and radiant into my life. Over and over again, I repeat to my soul their names, over and over I live the hours we have spent together, the dangers, the delights, the cruel misery of it all and then at the turn of the street, at the corner of a room, in the winking of an eye I see another face, it looks a challenge at me and I am out on the high road of another romance. I've got to go! It's part of my life; it's the pulse of my blood.