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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Blix by Frank Norris: upon him was like the stretching and tightening of harp-strings,
too taut to quiver. The color left his face, and the moisture
fled his lips. His projected article, his promise to Blix, all
the jollity of the afternoon, all thought of time or place, faded
away as the one indomitable, evil passion of the man leaped into
life within him, and lashed and roweled him with excitement. His
world resolved itself to a round green table, columns of tri-
colored chips, and five ever-changing cards that came and went and
came again before his tired eyes like the changing, weaving colors
of the kaleidoscope. Midnight struck, then one o'clock, then two,
three, and four. Still his passion rode him like a hag, spurring
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