| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Wrong Box by Stevenson & Osbourne: it,' answered the artist.
'Somebody has to do it, Pitman,' returned the lawyer; 'and it
seems as if it had to be me. You go over to the table, turn your
back, and mix me a grog; that's a fair division of labour.'
About ninety seconds later the closet-door was heard to shut.
'There,' observed Michael, 'that's more homelike. You can turn
now, my pallid Pitman. Is this the grog?' he ran on. 'Heaven
forgive you, it's a lemonade.'
'But, O, Finsbury, what are we to do with it?' walled the artist,
laying a clutching hand upon the lawyer's arm.
'Do with it?' repeated Michael. 'Bury it in one of your
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Message by Honore de Balzac: We went along by the pools of water; all over the park we went;
but we neither found the Countess nor any sign that she had
passed that way. At last we turned back, and under the walls of
some outbuildings I heard a smothered, wailing cry, so stifled
that it was scarcely audible. The sound seemed to come from a
place that might have been a granary. I went in at all risks, and
there we found Juliette. With the instinct of despair, she had
buried herself deep in the hay, hiding her face in it to deaden
those dreadful cries--pudency even stronger than grief. She was
sobbing and crying like a child, but there was a more poignant,
more piteous sound in the sobs. There was nothing left in the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from My Aunt Margaret's Mirror by Walter Scott: the ancient and honourable house of Swinton. She was a kind of
relation of my own, and met her death in a manner so shocking--
being killed, in a fit of insanity, by a female attendant who had
been attached to her person for half a lifetime--that I cannot
now recall her memory, child as I was when the catastrophe
occurred, without a painful reawakening of perhaps the first
images of horror that the scenes of real life stamped on my mind.
This good spinster had in her composition a strong vein of the
superstitious, and was pleased, among other fancies, to read
alone in her chamber by a taper fixed in a candlestick which she
had had formed out of a human skull. One night this strange
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