human
Saw her at Maude Sylvester's. By the way, Maude's novel, 'A Blinding Passion,' is having quite a success, don't you know? Well, as I was saying, this girl, Mittie Poindexter, is a real daisy, and suits me down to the ground--talks about going on the stage.
gpt
Kathleen would be jealous if she could hear how you run on!
human
Not a bit! he replied, his frank brow clouding with vexation.
gpt
To tell you the truth, Carrie, I don't believe she loves me in the least; it's only gratitude that made her promise to be mine. Only think, now, Carrie: she has been gone three days, and not one line to me, although I've written _her_ two letters a day. Why, don't you know, that week I went to New York I began a letter to her as soon as the train started, and, by Jove! I mailed it at the first station. I'm ashamed to think of all the spoony letters I wrote that girl in one week, and--_only one little note in return for all!_
human
Well, never mind. You have a special talent for letter-writing, you know, and Kathleen detests writing; she told me so. That accounts for her failure to write oftener,
gpt
What a deafening ring! Maybe that's the postman now. No, it is too early for _him_. What is it, Mary? Oh, a telegram! Open it, please, Teddy. Those things always startle us women folks so.
human
BENJAMIN CAREW.
gpt
Kathleen gone! Oh, Heaven! my little darling!