| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Case of the Registered Letter by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: days after the murder. Miss Roemer's remark about the dread that
some people have as to any connection with the police, is true to
a limited extent only. It is true only of the ignorant mind, not
of a man presumably well-to-do and properly educated. I do not
understand why the man to whom this letter was addressed has not
made himself known. The only explanation is - that there was no
such man!" A sudden sharp whistle broke from the detective's lips.
"I must examine the dead man's personal effects, his baggage, his
papers; there may be something there. His queer letter to Graumann
- his desire that the latter's visit should be kept secret - a visit
which apparently had no cause at all, except to get Graumann to the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Legend of Montrose by Walter Scott: single soldier to be much polished by the conversation of the
corporal or the sergeant, or that of Loyalty's Reward to have
been much dulcified, or ameliorated, by the society of his
Excellency's grooms, who bestow more oaths, and kicks, and
thumps, than kindness or caresses, upon the animals intrusted to
their charge; whereby many a generous quadruped, rendered as it
were misanthropic, manifests during the rest of his life a
greater desire to kick and bite his master, than to love and to
honour him."
"Spoken like an oracle," said Montrose. "Were there an academy
for the education of horses to be annexed to the Mareschal-
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: Without anyone to care for them, the books had remained untouched for
many a decade-damp dust, half an inch thick, having settled upon them!
Then came the fire, and while the roof was all ablaze streams
of hot water, like a boiling deluge, washed down upon them.
The wonder was they were not turned into a muddy pulp.
After all was over, the whole of the library, no portion of which
could legally be given away, was _lent for ever_ to the Corporation
of London. Scorched and sodden, the salvage came into the hands
of Mr. Overall, their indefatigable librarian. In a hired attic,
he hung up the volumes that would bear it over strings like clothes,
to dry, and there for weeks and weeks were the stained,
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