| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Island Nights' Entertainments by Robert Louis Stevenson: I'll make it square with the old lady. You can have your pick of
the lot for a plug of tobacco," he added, sneering.
I suppose it was the smile stuck in my memory, for I spoke back
sharp. "She doesn't look that sort," I cried.
"I don't know that she is," said Case. "I believe she's as right
as the mail. Keeps to herself, don't go round with the gang, and
that. O no, don't you misunderstand me - Uma's on the square." He
spoke eager, I thought, and that surprised and pleased me.
"Indeed," he went on, "I shouldn't make so sure of getting her,
only she cottoned to the cut of your jib. All you have to do is to
keep dark and let me work the mother my own way; and I'll bring the
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte: (Think of the conceited fellow saying that!) "And the novelty and
harshness of the lesson you have taught me to-day, and the
bitterness of being disappointed in the only quarter on which the
happiness of my life depended, must excuse any appearance of
asperity. If my presence is disagreeable to you, Miss Murray," he
said (for I was looking about me to show how little I cared for
him, so he thought I was tired of him, I suppose) - "if my presence
is disagreeable to you, Miss Murray, you have only to promise me
the favour I named, and I will relieve you at once. There are many
ladies - some even in this parish - who would be delighted to
accept what you have so scornfully trampled under your feet. They
Agnes Grey |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad: except that two of her captain's sleeping suits were simultaneously
in use, one motionless in the cuddy, the other keeping very still
in the captain's stateroom.
It must be explained here that my cabin had the form of the capital
letter L, the door being within the angle and opening into the short part
of the letter. A couch was to the left, the bed place to the right;
my writing desk and the chronometers' table faced the door.
But anyone opening it, unless he stepped right inside, had no
view of what I call the long (or vertical) part of the letter.
It contained some lockers surmounted by a bookcase; and a few clothes,
a thick jacket or two, caps, oilskin coat, and such like, hung on hooks.
The Secret Sharer |
