| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Chouans by Honore de Balzac: answer. The lady, uneasy and anxious to discover at once if the speech
meant danger or was merely accidental, said to Corentin in a natural
tone and manner; "How little security there is on these roads. We were
attacked by Chouans just beyond Mortagne. My son came very near being
killed; he received two balls in his hat while protecting me."
"Is it possible, madame? were you in the mail-coach which those
brigands robbed in spite of the escort,--the one we have just come by?
You must know the vehicle well. They told me at Mortagne that the
Chouans numbered a couple of thousands and that every one in the coach
was killed, even the travellers. That's how history is written! Alas!
madame," he continued, "if they murder travellers so near to Paris you
The Chouans |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett: meetin'-house ledges; guess I can fetch in to Shell-heap."
"How long is it since Miss Joanna Todd died?" I asked, partly
by way of explanation.
"Twenty-two years come September," answered the captain, after
reflection. "She died the same year as my oldest boy was born, an'
the town house was burnt over to the Port. I didn't know but you
merely wanted to hunt for some o' them Indian relics. Long's you
want to see where Joanna lived--No, 'tain't breakin' over
the ledges; we'll manage to fetch across the shoals somehow, 'tis
such a distance to go 'way round, and tide's a-risin'," he ended
hopefully, and we sailed steadily on, the captain speechless with
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Great God Pan by Arthur Machen: friend, when suddenly above the hum and babble of conversation I
heard a voice which seemed to thrill to my heart. She was
singing an Italian song. I was introduced to her that evening,
and in three months I married Helen. Villiers, that woman, if I
can call her woman, corrupted my soul. The night of the wedding
I found myself sitting in her bedroom in the hotel, listening to
her talk. She was sitting up in bed, and I listened to her as
she spoke in her beautiful voice, spoke of things which even now
I would not dare whisper in the blackest night, though I stood
in the midst of a wilderness. You, Villiers, you may think you
know life, and London, and what goes on day and night in this
The Great God Pan |
