human
You are always accusing _me_ of every thing, said she, at length.
gpt
I didn't do it----all;
human
You are a mean coward, cried the spinster, hurling the ball across the room with such force that it rebounded against the wall.
gpt
You're a coward with all your audacity, and do tricks you are ashamed to acknowledge. You've spoiled the honest earnings of the whole winter, and destroyed the beautifullest suit of thread that ever was spun by mortal woman.
human
I can pay you for all I spoiled and more too,
gpt
Pay me, repeated Miss Thusa, while the scorching fire of her eye slowly went out, leaving an expression of profound sorrow.
human
Can you pay me for a value you can't even dream of? Can you pay me for the lonely thoughts that twisted themselves up with that thread, day after day, and night after night, because they had nothing else to take hold of? Can you pay me for these grooves in my fingers' ends, made by the flax as I kept drawing it through, till it often turned red with my blood? No, no, that thread was as dear to me as my own heart strings--for they were twined all about it; it was like something living to me--and I loved it in the same way as I do little Helen. I shall never, never spin any more.
gpt
You will spin more merrily than ever, cried Louis, soothingly,