human
Come in--come in, Henry,
gpt
Now go right on--don't mind me, young man. Fenn pulled a newspaper from his cheap neat coat, and sat reading it, under a light that he made for himself at Violet's desk. The light fell on his thin whitening hair--still coarse, and close cropped. In his clean, washed-out face there was the faded glow of the man who had been the rising young attorney thirty years before. Grant knew that Fenn did not expect the work to stop, so he went on with it.
human
I'm going to supper about eight o'clock, said Grant, and asked:
gpt
Will that be all right?
human
Don't mind me,