| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Concerning Christian Liberty by Martin Luther: then it follows that all they have becomes theirs in common, as
well good things as evil things; so that whatsoever Christ
possesses, that the believing soul may take to itself and boast
of as its own, and whatever belongs to the soul, that Christ
claims as His.
If we compare these possessions, we shall see how inestimable is
the gain. Christ is full of grace, life, and salvation; the soul
is full of sin, death, and condemnation. Let faith step in, and
then sin, death, and hell will belong to Christ, and grace, life,
and salvation to the soul. For, if He is a Husband, He must needs
take to Himself that which is His wife's, and at the same time,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield: scullery boy, did not come until seven. He was the son of the butcher--a
mean, undersized child very much like one of his father's sausages, Sabina
thought. His red face was covered with pimples, and his nails
indescribably filthy. When Herr Lehmann himself told Hans to get a hairpin
and clean them he said they were stained from birth because his mother had
always got so inky doing the accounts--and Sabina believed him and pitied
him.
Winter had come very early to Mindelbau. By the end of October the streets
were banked waist-high with snow, and the greater number of the "Cure
Guests," sick unto death of cold water and herbs, had departed in nothing
approaching peace. So the large salon was shut at Lehmann's and the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: thankfulness! - and her own shoes under her arm and covered by the
shawl, she took the candle again, closed the trap-door, and stepped
over to the washstand. Here, she dampened a rag, that did duty as
a facecloth, and thrust it into her pocket; then, blowing out the
candle, she groped her way to the door, locked it behind her, and
without any attempt at secrecy made her way downstairs.
VI. THE RENDEZVOUS
Rhoda Gray's movements were a little unsteady as she stepped out
on the sidewalk. Gypsy Nan's accepted inebriety was not without
its compensation. It enabled her, as she swayed for a moment, to
scrutinize the street in all directions. Were any of Rough Rorke's
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