| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Illustrious Gaudissart by Honore de Balzac: Paris adulterated with brandy and called Madeira. The wine-merchants
buy it up, when our vintage has not been good enough for the Dutch and
Belgian markets, to mix it with wines grown in the neighborhood of
Paris, and call it Bordeaux. But what you are drinking just now, my
good Monsieur, is a wine for kings, the pure Head of Vouvray,--that's
it's name. I have two puncheons, only two puncheons of it left. People
who like fine wines, high-class wines, who furnish their table with
qualities that can't be bought in the regular trade,--and there are
many persons in Paris who have that vanity,--well, such people send
direct to us for this wine. Do you know any one who--?"
"Let us go on with what we were saying," interposed Gaudissart.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: The detective gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Why are you astonished at this?" asked Fellner.
"According to her notebook, the young lady does not seem to know of
this step-brother."
"She does not know, sir. There was an ugly scandal in her family
before her birth. Her father turned his first wife and their son
out of his house on one and the same day. He had discovered that
she was deceiving him, and also that her son, who was studying
medicine at the time, had stolen money from his safe. What he had
discovered about his wife made Langen doubt whether the boy was his
son at all. There was a terrible scene, and the two disappeared
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Ebb-Tide by Stevenson & Osbourne: 'Since the secret has been kept ten years, one would suppose
she had,' replied Attwater.
'Well, now, see 'ere!' said Huish. 'You have everything about
you in no end style, and no mistake, but I tell you it wouldn't
do for me. Too much of "the old rustic bridge by the mill"; too
retired, by 'alf. Give me the sound of Bow Bells!'
'You must not think it was always so,' replied Attwater, 'This
was once a busy shore, although now, hark! you can hear the
solitude. I find it stimulating. And talking of the sound of
bells, kindly follow a little experiment of mine in silence.'
There was a silver bell at his right hand to call the servants;
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