[不定项选择题]共用题干 To Have and Have Not
It had been boring hanging about the hotel all afternoon.The road crew were playing a game with dollar notes.Folding them into small planes to see whose would fly the furthest.Having nothing better to do,I joined in and won five,and then took the opportunity to escape with my profit. Despite the evil-looking clouds,I had to get out for a while.
I headed for a shop on the other side of the street. Unlike the others,it didn't have a sign shouting its name and business,and instead of the usual impersonal modern lighting,there was an appealing glow inside.Strangely nothing was displayed in the window.Not put off by this,I went inside.
It took my breath away.I didn't know where to look,where to start. On one wall there hung three hand-stitched American quilts that were in such wonderful condition they might have been newly -made .I came across tin toys and antique furniture,and on the wall in front of me,a 1957 stratocaster guitar,also in excellent condition.A card pushed between the strings said $50.I ran my hand along a long shelf of records,reading their titles.And there was more...
"Can I help you?"She startled me.I hadn't even seen the woman behind the counter come in.The way she looked at me,so directly and with such power. It was a look of such intensity that for a moment I felt as if I were wrapped in some kind of magnetic or electrical field.I found it hard to take and almost turned away.But though it was uncomfortable.I was fascinated by the experi- ence of her looking straight into me,and by the feeling that I was neither a stranger,nor strange, to her.
Besides amusement her expression showed sympathy. It was impossible to tell her age.She reminded me faintly of my grandmother because,although her eyes were friendly.I could see that she was not a woman to fall out with .I spoke at last."I was just looking really",I said,though secretly wondering how much of the stuff I could cram into the bus.
The woman turned away and went at once towards a back room,indicating that I should follow her. But it in no way lived up to the first room.The light made me feel peculiar,too.It came from an oil lamp that was hung from the centre of the ceiling and created huge shadows over eve-rything. There were no rare electric guitars,no old necklaces,no hand-painted boxes with deli-cate flowers.It was also obvious that it must have taken years,decades,to collect so much rub-bish,so many old documents arid papers.
I noticed some old books,whose gold lettering had faded, making their titles impossible to read."they look interesting",I said,with some hesitation."To be able to understand that kind of writing you must first have had a similar experience",she said clearly.She noted the confused look on my face,but didn't add anything.
She reached up for a small book which she handed to me."This is the best book I can give you at the moment",she laughed."If you use it."I opened the book to find it full,or rather empty,with blank white pages,but paid her the few dollars she asked for it,becoming embar-rassed when I realised the notes were still folded into little paper planes.I put the book in my pocket,thanked her and left. The writer disliked the back room because______.
A.there was hardly anything in it
B.she had ordered him to go there
C.he saw nothing he really liked
D.it was too dark to look around

[不定项选择题]共用题干 To Have and Have Not
It had been boring hanging about the hotel all afternoon.The road crew were playing a game with dollar notes.Folding them into small planes to see whose would fly the furthest.Having nothing better to do,I joined in and won five,and then took the opportunity to escape with my profit. Despite the evil-looking clouds,I had to get out for a while.
I headed for a shop on the other side of the street. Unlike the others,it didn't have a sign shouting its name and business,and instead of the usual impersonal modern lighting,there was an appealing glow inside.Strangely nothing was displayed in the window.Not put off by this,I went inside.
It took my breath away.I didn't know where to look,where to start. On one wall there hung three hand-stitched American quilts that were in such wonderful condition they might have been newly -made .I came across tin toys and antique furniture,and on the wall in front of me,a 1957 stratocaster guitar,also in excellent condition.A card pushed between the strings said $50.I ran my hand along a long shelf of records,reading their titles.And there was more...
"Can I help you?"She startled me.I hadn't even seen the woman behind the counter come in.The way she looked at me,so directly and with such power. It was a look of such intensity that for a moment I felt as if I were wrapped in some kind of magnetic or electrical field.I found it hard to take and almost turned away.But though it was uncomfortable.I was fascinated by the experi- ence of her looking straight into me,and by the feeling that I was neither a stranger,nor strange, to her.
Besides amusement her expression showed sympathy. It was impossible to tell her age.She reminded me faintly of my grandmother because,although her eyes were friendly.I could see that she was not a woman to fall out with .I spoke at last."I was just looking really",I said,though secretly wondering how much of the stuff I could cram into the bus.
The woman turned away and went at once towards a back room,indicating that I should follow her. But it in no way lived up to the first room.The light made me feel peculiar,too.It came from an oil lamp that was hung from the centre of the ceiling and created huge shadows over eve-rything. There were no rare electric guitars,no old necklaces,no hand-painted boxes with deli-cate flowers.It was also obvious that it must have taken years,decades,to collect so much rub-bish,so many old documents arid papers.
I noticed some old books,whose gold lettering had faded, making their titles impossible to read."they look interesting",I said,with some hesitation."To be able to understand that kind of writing you must first have had a similar experience",she said clearly.She noted the confused look on my face,but didn't add anything.
She reached up for a small book which she handed to me."This is the best book I can give you at the moment",she laughed."If you use it."I opened the book to find it full,or rather empty,with blank white pages,but paid her the few dollars she asked for it,becoming embar-rassed when I realised the notes were still folded into little paper planes.I put the book in my pocket,thanked her and left. What was unusual about the way the woman looked at him?
A.It made him feel self-conscious.
B.She was happy to stare at him.
C.She seemed to know him well.
D.It made him want to look away.

[不定项选择题]共用题干 Narrow Escape
We had left the hut too late that morning.When we stepped outside,the sky beyond the mountains to our east was already livid with colour.It meant the day would be a hot one,and the warmth would loosen rocks that were gripped by ice.
As soon as we stepped out on to the face,it became obvious this was going to be an awkward route.The main problem was talus,the debris that collects on mountainsides.Talus is despised by mountaineers for two reasons.First,because it can easily be pushed off on to you by people climbing above.And second,because it makes every step you take insecure.
For about 30 minutes we moved steadily up the face.The rock was in poor condition, shattered horizontally and mazed with cracks.When I tried to haul myself up on a block of it, it would pull out towards me,like a drawer opening.My hands became progressively wetter and colder.Then came a shout.“Cailloux!Cailloux!”I heard yelled from above,in a female voice.The words echoed down towards us.I looked up to see where they had come from.
There were just two rocks at first,leaping and bounding down the face towards us,once cannoning off each other in mid-air.And then the air above suddenly seemed alive with falling rocks,humming through the air and filling it with noise.Crack,went each one as it leapt off the rock face,then hum-hum-hum as it moved through the air,then crack again.The pause between the cracks lengthened each time,as the rocks gained momentum and jumped further and further.I continued to gaze up at the rocks as they fell and skipped towards me.A boy who had been a few years above me at school had taught me never to look up during a rock fall.“Why?Because a rock in your face is far less pleasant than a rock on your helmet,”he told us.“Face in,always face in.”
I heard Toby,my partner on the mountain that day,shouting at me.I looked across.He was safe beneath an overhanging canopy of rock.I could not understand him.Then I felt a thump,and was tugged backwards and round,as though somebody had clamped a heavy hand on my shoulder and turned me to face them.A rock had hit the lid of my rucksack.
I looked up again.A rock was heading down straight towards me.Instinctively,I leant backwards and arched my back out from the rock to try to protect my chest.What about my fingers,though,I thought:they'll be crushed flat if it hits them,and I'll never get down.
Then I heard a crack directly in front of me,and a tug at my trousers,and a yell from Toby.
“Are you all right?That went straight through you.”The rock had pitched in front of me, and passed through the hoop of my body,between my legs,missing me but snatching at my clothing as it went.
Toby and I had spent the evening talking through the events of the morning:what if the big final stone hadn't leapt sideways,what if I'd been knocked off,would you have held me, would I have pulled you off?A more experienced mountaineer would probably have thought nothing of it.I knew I would not forget it. In what sense was Toby“safe”?
A.The overhanging rock would protect him from falling rocks.
B.He felt a hand on his shoulder.
C.His rucksack was protected.
D.He had hidden under a canopy.