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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: protector she had. It was as though Flora had been fated to be
always surrounded by treachery and lies stifling every better
impulse, every instinctive aspiration of her soul to trust and to
love. It would have been enough to drive a fine nature into the
madness of universal suspicion--into any sort of madness. I don't
know how far a sense of humour will stand by one. To the foot of
the gallows, perhaps. But from my recollection of Flora de Barral I
feared that she hadn't much sense of humour. She had cried at the
desertion of the absurd Fyne dog. That animal was certainly free
from duplicity. He was frank and simple and ridiculous. The
indignation of the girl at his unhypocritical behaviour had been
Chance |
