human
I knew that you would come, my Puritan. There is room beside me here. Sit and tell me—all that the waterfall is singing—the might-have-beens, the fret and bubble of this life—the never-ending wonder that men should die for their King when there are easier roads to follow.
gpt
Ask the stream. Kit’s laugh was unsteady, and his voice seemed to come from far-away.
human
To die for the King—it may not be ease, but surely it is happiness.
gpt
Talk to me. Tell me how he looked—the King—when you saw him there in Oxford. And Rupert? His name alone brings back the old Crusading days, before we grew tired of poetry.