human
And they called him Cyril!--a wishy-washy name like that! thought Cleek disgustedly, looking long at him.
gpt
What a perfectly beautiful boy! And looks delicate, too. No wonder the mother loves him. There's something appealing in those pansy eyes of his that would lure blood from a stone. I must have a chat with him later on. He'll tell me much of this strange family, if I get the right side of him to begin with.
human
And I'll tell you some more about him, too--after lunch is over--if you'll take me out and show me the grounds of this beautiful place, he promised, with a nod and a smile which won Cyril's hero-worshipping soul instantly and gained for Cleek an ally who, if handled in the right way, might prove more useful than he had at first imagined.
gpt
There's one story I remember about the Calais express, and how that chap got the better of a pack of Apaches who were after the mail-bags. Gospel-truth!--it's wonderful! We're goin' to be good pals, Cyril, I can see.
human
Only, please, _please_ do not fill his mind up with any more imaginings, Mr. Deland, than he has already got for himself, threw in Lady Paula, with an arch glance at Cleek and a little self-conscious laugh.
gpt
He is already filled to the brim with his stepbrother's electrical madnesses. Ross has woven a spell over him, I think, in which--what do you call it?--flex and tungsten and short-circuits and all the rest of that impossible jargon of these light-fiends are inextricably mixed. I sometimes fear for Cyril's sanity! He talks in his sleep all night long of these things, and then wakes in the morning, pale as death. But I cannot make him do other than spend all these beautiful, long summer days in that stuffy laboratory with Ross, watching him at what he calls his experiments.