| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Cousin Betty by Honore de Balzac: he, at any rate, is your own child, Marneffe. You ought to pay for his
schooling out of your salary.--The newcomer, far from reminding us of
butcher's bills, will rescue us from want."
"Valerie," replied Marneffe, assuming an attitude like Crevel, "I hope
that Monsieur le Baron Hulot will take proper charge of his son, and
not lay the burden on a poor clerk. I intend to keep him well up to
the mark. So take the necessary steps, madame! Get him to write you
letters in which he alludes to his satisfaction, for he is rather
backward in coming forward in regard to my appointment."
And Marneffe went away to the office, where his chief's precious
leniency allowed him to come in at about eleven o'clock. And, indeed,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: Thorne will take Mercedes an' hit the trail for Yuma."
"Camino del Diablo! That awful trail with a woman! Jim, do you
forget how many hundreds of men have perished on the Devil's
Road?"
"I reckon I ain't forgettin' nothin'," replied Jim. "The waterholes
are full now. There's grass, an' we can do the job in six days."
"It's three hundred miles to Yuma."
"Beldin', Jim's idea hits me pretty reasonable," interposed Ladd.
"Lord knows that's about the only chance we've got except fightin'."
"But suppose we do stave Rojas off, and you get safely away with
Mercedes. Isn't Rojas going to find it out quick? Then what'll he
 Desert Gold |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: of Lucetta and Farfrae by his stillness. He was evidently a
chastened man. The battle of life had been a sharp one with
him, for, to begin with, he was a man of small frame. He
was now so bowed by hard work and years that, approaching
from behind, a person could hardly see his head. He had
planted the stem of his crook in the gutter and was resting
upon the bow, which was polished to silver brightness by the
long friction of his hands. He had quite forgotten where he
was, and what he had come for, his eyes being bent on the
ground. A little way off negotiations were proceeding which
had reference to him; but he did not hear them, and there
 The Mayor of Casterbridge |