human
You look so pale. Do you feel ill? Is the heat too much for you?
gpt
No; I am quite well. I always get dull and miss you when you are out, that is all, she answered. She would not speak to him of Sybil. She knew in matters of love coercion is useless, words are useless, everything is useless. Like a malady, like a sickness, desire drifts across the brain and runs its course. Sometimes the sufferer dies, but more often he recovers and asks:
human
Was I ever ill?
gpt
Like the icicle lying in the hot hand of the wondering boy it diminishes and vanishes even while he gazes on it and the harder, the tighter, he clasps it, the more rapidly does it disappear.