| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eve and David by Honore de Balzac: duty. The two men, Doublon himself, and the visitors were all closeted
together in the private office, beyond the public office, on the
ground floor.
A tolerably wide-paved lobby, a kind of passage-way, led to the public
office. The gilded scutcheons of the court, with the word "Bailiff"
printed thereon in large black letters, hung outside on the house wall
on either side the door. Both office windows gave upon the street, and
were protected by heavy iron bars; but the private office looked into
the garden at the back, wherein Doublon, an adorer of Pomona, grew
espaliers with marked success. Opposite the office door you beheld the
door of the kitchen, and, beyond the kitchen, the staircase that
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Blue Flower by Henry van Dyke: us know. But what we all want just now is music. Dorothy, will
you sing a little for us?"
So she sang "The Coulin," and "The Days o' the Kerry
Dancin'," and "The Hawthorn Tree," and "The Green Woods of
Truigha," and "Flowers o' the Forest," and "A la claire
Fontaine," until the twilight was filled with peace.
The boys came back to the school. The wheels of routine
began to turn again, slowly and with a little friction at
first, then smoothly and swiftly as if they had never stopped.
Summer reddened into autumn; autumn bronzed into fall. The
maples and poplars were bare. The oaks alone kept their
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Black Dwarf by Walter Scott: titties."
"There's four of us now, Hobbie, lad," said the youngest, who at
this moment entered.
In an instant Hobbie had in his arms Grace Armstrong, who, with
one of his sister's plaids around her, had passed unnoticed at
his first entrance. "How dared you do this?" said Hobbie.
"It wasna my fault," said Grace, endeavouring to cover her face
with her hands to hide at once her blushes, and escape the storm
of hearty kisses with which her bridegroom punished her simple
stratagem,--"It wasna my fault, Hobbie; ye should kiss Jeanie and
the rest o' them, for they hae the wyte o't."
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