| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Father Goriot by Honore de Balzac: from the daylight by a soiled green silk shade with a rim of
brass, an object fit to scare away the Angel of Pity himself. Her
shawl, with its scanty, draggled fringe, might have covered a
skeleton, so meagre and angular was the form beneath it. Yet she
must have been pretty and shapely once. What corrosive had
destroyed the feminine outlines? Was it trouble, or vice, or
greed? Had she loved too well? Had she been a second-hand clothes
dealer, a frequenter of the backstairs of great houses, or had
she been merely a courtesan? Was she expiating the flaunting
triumphs of a youth overcrowded with pleasures by an old age in
which she was shunned by every passer-by? Her vacant gaze sent a
Father Goriot |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Allan Quatermain by H. Rider Haggard: a detour by some paths known to the natives.
Just then one of the boys came in and reported that everybody
in the Masai camp, with the exception of the two sentries who
were walking up and down in front of the respective entrances,
appeared to be fast asleep. Then the rest of us took the road.
First came the guide, then Sir Henry, Umslopogaas, the Wakwafi
Askari, and Mr Mackenzie's two mission natives armed with long
spears and shields. I followed immediately after with Alphonse
and five natives all armed with guns, and Mr Mackenzie brought
up the rear with the six remaining natives.
The cattle kraal where the Masai were camped lay at the foot
Allan Quatermain |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Roads of Destiny by O. Henry: will go to the south entrance to the palace. Repeat the words, and
give this letter to the man who will reply 'Let him strike when he
will.' This is the password, monsieur, entrusted to me by my uncle,
for now when the country is disturbed and men plot against the king's
life, no one without it can gain entrance to the palace grounds after
nightfall. If you will, monsieur, take him this letter so that my
mother may see him before she closes her eyes."
"Give it me," said David, eagerly. "But shall I let you return home
through the streets alone so late? I--"
"No, no--fly. Each moment is like a precious jewel. Some time," said
the lady, with eyes long and cozening, like a gypsy's, "I will try to
|
