| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson: one thing is sure and quite sufficient: Mr. Henry thought so. The
poor gentleman sat for days in my room, so great a picture of
distress that I could never venture to address him; yet it is to be
thought he found some comfort even in my presence and the knowledge
of my sympathy. There were times, too, when we talked, and a
strange manner of talk it was; there was never a person named, nor
an individual circumstance referred to; yet we had the same matter
in our minds, and we were each aware of it. It is a strange art
that can thus be practised; to talk for hours of a thing, and never
name nor yet so much as hint at it. And I remember I wondered if
it was by some such natural skill that the Master made love to Mrs.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Bronte Sisters: more boldly, 'that you have nothing to fear from me? that I love
you wholly and entirely? - or if,' he added with a lurking smile,
'I ever give a thought to another, you may well spare it, for those
fancies are here and gone like a flash of lightning, while my love
for you burns on steadily, and for ever, like the sun. You little
exorbitant tyrant, will not that -?'
'Be quiet a moment, will you, Arthur?' said I, 'and listen to me -
and don't think I'm in a jealous fury: I am perfectly calm. Feel
my hand.' And I gravely extended it towards him - but closed it
upon his with an energy that seemed to disprove the assertion, and
made him smile. 'You needn't smile, sir,' said I, still tightening
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne: said I, clapping my hands together. - And yet you would not permit
this, said the old officer, in England.
- In England, dear Sir, said I, WE SIT ALL AT OUR EASE.
The old French officer would have set me at unity with myself, in
case I had been at variance, - by saying it was a BON MOT; - and,
as a BON MOT is always worth something at Paris, he offered me a
pinch of snuff.
THE ROSE. PARIS.
IT WAS now my turn to ask the old French officer "What was the
matter?" for a cry of "HAUSSEZ LES MAINS, MONSIEUR L'ABBE!" re-
echoed from a dozen different parts of the parterre, was as
|
