|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber: the tightly-rolled apron into the heart of the gleaming
mass. She shut her eyes then. The fire seemed to hold its
breath for a moment. Then, with a gasp, it sprang upon its
food. The bundle stiffened, writhed, crumpled, sank, lay a
blackened heap, was dissolved. The fire bed glowed red and
purple as before, except for a dark spot in its heart.
Fanny shivered a little. She shut the furnace door and went
up-stairs again.
"Smells like something burning--cloth, or something," called
Annie, from the kitchen.
"It's only an old apron that was cluttering up my--my bureau
 Fanny Herself |