| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Alexander's Bridge by Willa Cather: he explained as they got into a hansom.
"It's tremendously well put on, too.
Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson.
But Hilda Burgoyne's the hit of the piece.
Hugh's written a delightful part for her,
and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on
only two weeks, and I've been half a dozen times
already. I happen to have MacConnell's box
for tonight or there'd be no chance of our
getting places. There's everything in seeing
Hilda while she's fresh in a part. She's apt to
Alexander's Bridge |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wheels of Chance by H. G. Wells: his right hand, without certainly overturning the machine; but
his pocket handkerchief might have been in California for any
good it was to him while he was in the saddle.
Yet you must not think that because Mr. Hoopdriver was a little
uncomfortable, he was unhappy in the slightest degree. In the
background of his consciousness was the sense that about this
time Briggs would be half-way through his window dressing, and
Gosling, the apprentice, busy, with a chair turned down over the
counter and his ears very red, trying to roll a piece of
huckaback--only those who have rolled pieces of huckaback know
quite how detestable huckaback is to roll--and the shop would be
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen: the small traffic of the milk-shop, and wondering at the
incongruous medley of penny pipes, black tobacco, sweets,
newspapers, and comic songs which here and there jostled one
another in the short compass of a single window. I think it was
a cold shudder that suddenly passed through me that first told
me that I had found what I wanted. I looked up from the
pavement and stopped before a dusty shop, above which the
lettering had faded, where the red bricks of two hundred years
ago had grimed to black; where the windows had gathered to
themselves the dust of winters innumerable. I saw what I
required; but I think it was five minutes before I had steadied
The Great God Pan |
