human
Where is the thread, Miss Thusa? exclaimed Helen, running before her, and springing on the slope.
gpt
When did you take it away?
human
Take it away! cried she.
gpt
Take it away! I never _did_ take it away. But _somebody_ has taken it--stolen it, carried it off, every skein of it--not a piece left the length of my finger, my finger nail. The vile thieves!--all my winter's labor--six long months' work--dead and buried! for all me--
human
Poor Miss Thusa!