| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Jolly Corner by Henry James: - that he had only to let it shine on him. He must moreover, with
intermissions, still have been lifted and borne; since why and how
else should he have known himself, later on, with the afternoon
glow intenser, no longer at the foot of his stairs - situated as
these now seemed at that dark other end of his tunnel - but on a
deep window-bench of his high saloon, over which had been spread,
couch-fashion, a mantle of soft stuff lined with grey fur that was
familiar to his eyes and that one of his hands kept fondly feeling
as for its pledge of truth. Mrs. Muldoon's face had gone, but the
other, the second he had recognised, hung over him in a way that
showed how he was still propped and pillowed. He took it all in,
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister: "Oh--dear--me!" slowly exclaimed the Judge. "I am sorry that you
cannot see that, because I think that I can. And I think that you
have just as much sense as I have." The Judge made himself very
grave and very good-humored at the same time. The poor girl was
strung to a high pitch, and spoke harshly in spite of herself.
"What is the difference in principle?" she demanded.
"Well," said the Judge, easy and thoughtful, "what do you mean by
principle?"
"I didn't think you'd quibble," flashed Molly. "I'm not a lawyer
myself."
A man less wise than Judge Henry would have smiled at this, and
The Virginian |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Circular Staircase by Mary Roberts Rinehart: Carrington a good deal more than he did the devil. Our leave-
taking was brief; in fact, we merely stared at each other over
the waiting-room table, with its litter of year-old
magazines. Then I turned and went out.
"To Richfield," I told Warner, and on the way I thought, and
thought hard.
"Nina Carrington, Nina Carrington," the roar and rush of the
wheels seemed to sing the words. "Nina Carrington, N. C." And I
then knew, knew as surely as if I had seen the whole thing.
There had been an N. C. on the suit-case belonging to the woman
with the pitted face. How simple it all seemed. Mattie Bliss
The Circular Staircase |
