|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: "What big eyes she has," he said to himself amazed. No wonder. She
was staring at him with all the might of her soul awakening slowly
from a poisoned sleep, in which it could only quiver with pain but
could neither expand nor move. He plunged into them breathless and
tense, deep, deep, like a mad sailor taking a desperate dive from
the masthead into the blue unfathomable sea so many men have
execrated and loved at the same time. And his vanity was immense.
It had been touched to the quick by that muscular little feminist,
Fyne. "I! I! Take advantage of her helplessness. I! Unfair to
that creature--that wisp of mist, that white shadow homeless in an
ugly dirty world. I could blow her away with a breath," he was
 Chance |