| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: "Come along, little lady," said the fat man. He scarcely troubled to clasp
her, and they moved away so gently, it was more like walking than dancing.
But he said not a word about the floor. "Your first dance, isn't it?" he
murmured.
"How did you know?"
"Ah," said the fat man, "that's what it is to be old!" He wheezed faintly
as he steered her past an awkward couple. "You see, I've been doing this
kind of thing for the last thirty years."
"Thirty years?" cried Leila. Twelve years before she was born!
"It hardly bears thinking about, does it?" said the fat man gloomily.
Leila looked at his bald head, and she felt quite sorry for him.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maitre Cornelius by Honore de Balzac: the jewels I went up to the room of that apprentice, who is,
assuredly, a past-master in thieving. This time we don't lack proof.
He had forced the lock of his door. But when he got back to his room,
the moon was down and he couldn't find all the screws. Happily, I felt
one under my feet when I entered the room. He was sound asleep, the
beggar, tired out. Just fancy, gentlemen, he got down into my strong-
room by the chimney. To-morrow, or to-night, rather, I'll roast him
alive. He had a silk ladder, and his clothes were covered with marks
of his clambering over the roof and down the chimney. He meant to stay
with me, and ruin me, night after night, the bold wretch! But where
are the jewels? The country-folks coming into town early saw him on
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from House of Mirth by Edith Wharton: thrill of pleasure. Under ordinary circumstances, there would
have been nothing surprising in an invitation from Bertha Dorset;
but since the Bellomont episode an unavowed hostility had
kept the two women apart. Now, with a start of inner wonder,
Lily felt that her thirst for retaliation had died out. IF YOU WOULD
FORGIVE YOUR ENEMY, says the Malay proverb, FIRST INFLICT A HURT
ON HIM; and Lily was experiencing the truth of the apothegm.
If she had destroyed Mrs. Dorset's letters, she might have
continued to hate her; but the fact that they remained in her
possession had fed her resentment to satiety.
She uttered a smiling acceptance, hailing in the renewal of the
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