单选题I（）her to marry me and she agreed.AaskBaskedCtoldDtell
单选题
I（）her to marry me and she agreed.
A
ask
B
asked
C
told
D
tell
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解析：
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相关考题：
Whenever I met her, _________ was fairly often, she greeted me with a sweet smile.A. who B. which C. when D. that
—So how is your new roommate?—She really (). She’s always making loud noises at midnight and when I remind her, she always makes rude remarks. A、turns me overB、turns me downC、turns me offD、turns me out
AI was in a rush as always, but this time it was for an important date I just couldn’t be late for! I found myself at a checkout counter behind an elderly woman seemingly in no hurry as she paid for her groceries. A PhD student with not a lot of money, I had hurried into the store to pick up some flowers. I was in a huge rush, thinking of my upcoming evening. I did not want to be late for this date.We were in Boston, a place not always known for small conversation between strangers. The woman stopped unloading her basket and looked up at me. She smiled. It was a nice smile-warm and reassuring-and I retuned her gift by smiling back.“Must be a special lady,” whoever it is that will be getting those beautiful flowers,” she said.“Yes, she’s special,” I said, and then to my embarrassment, the words kept coming out. “It’ s only our second date, but somehow I am just having the feeling she’s‘the one ，’”jokingly, I added, “The only problem is that I can’t figure out why she’d want to date a guy like me.”“Well, I think she’s very lucky to have a boyfriend who brings her such lovely flowers and who is obviously in love with her,” the woman said. ”My husband used to bring me flowers every week-even when tines were tough and we didn’t have much money. Those were incredible days; be was very romantic and-of course- I miss him since he’s passed away.”I paid for my flowers as she was gathering up her groceries. There was no doubt in my mind as I walked up to her. I touched her on the shoulder and said “You were right, you know. These flowers are indeed for a very special lady.” I handed the flowers and thanked her for such a nice conversation.It took her a moment to realize that I was giving her the flowers I had just purchased. “You have a wonderful evening,” I said. I left her with a big smile and my heart warmed as I saw her smelling the beautiful flowers.I remember being slightly late for my date that night and telling my girlfriend the above story. A couple of years later, when I finally worked up the courage to ask her to marry me, she told me that this story had helped to seal it for her-that was the night than I won her heart .41．Why was the writer in a hurry that day?A. He was to meet his girlfriend.B. He had to go back to school soon.C. He was delayed by an elderly lady.D. He had to pick up some groceries.
根据下列材料请回答 1～20 题：I close my eyes and can still hear her—the little girl with a 1 ． SO strong and powerful we could hear her halfway down the block． She was a(n) 2 peasant who asked for money and 3 gave the。nly thing she had--her V。ice．I paused。utside a small shop and listened She brought to my mind the 4 of Little Orphan Annie．I could not understand the words she 5 ， but her voice begged for 6 .It stood out from the noises of Arbat Street，pure and impressive， like the chime of a bell．She sang 7 an old—style. lamp post in the shadow of a building，her anns extended and 8 thrown back． She was small and of unremarkable looks．Her brown hair 9 the bun(发髻)it had been pulled into，and she occasionally reached up to 10 a stray Diece fmm her face．Her clothing I call’t recall．Her voice，on the other hand，is 11 imprintedin my mind. I asked one of the translators about the gin．Elaina told me that she and hundreds of others like her throughout the 12 soviet union add to their families'income by working on the streets. The children are unable to 13 school，and their parents work fulltime．These children know that the consequence of all 14 day is no food for the table．Similar situations occurred during the De’pression(萧条)in the United States，but those Amefican children were 15 shoeshine boys of me 16 .This girl was real to me．When we walked past her I gave her money．It was not out of pity 17 rather admiration Her smile of 18 did not interrupt her singing．The girl watched US as we walked down the street．I know this because when I looked back she smiled again． We 19 that smile，and I knew I could never forget her courage and 20 strength．第 1 题A．willB．strengthC．voiceD．determination
第一节 阅读理解（共15小题；每小2分，满分30分）阅读下列短文，从每题所给的A、B、C和D项中，选出最佳选项，并在答题卡上将该项涂黑。When I was growing up in America, I was ashamed of my mother’s Chinese English. Because of her English, she was often treated unfairly. People in department stores, at banks, And at restaurants did not take her seriously ,did not give her good service ,pretended not to Understand her ,or even acted as if they did not hear her.My mother has realized the limitations of her English as well. When I was fifteen, she used to have me call people on phone to pretend I was she . I was forced to ask for information or even to yell at people who had been rude to her. One time I had to call her stockbroker (股票经纪人).I said in an adolescent voice that was not very convincing, “This is Mrs.Tan.”And my mother was standing beside me ,whispering loudly, “Why he don’t send me cheek already two week lone.”And then , in perfect English I said : “I’m getting rather concerned .You agreed to send the check two weeks ago, but it hasn’t arrived.”Then she talked more loudly. “What he want? I come to New York tell him front of his boss.” And so I turned to the stockbroker again, “I can’t tolerate any more excuse. If I don’t receive the check immediately , I am going to have to speak to your manager when I am in New York next week.”The next week we ended up in New York. While I was sitting there red-faced, my mother, the real Mrs.Tan, was shouting to his boss in her broken English.When I was a teenager, my mother’s broken English embarrassed me. But now, I see it differently. To me, my mother’s English is perfectly clear, perfectly natural. It is my mother tongue. Her language, as I hear it, is vivid, direct, and full of observation and wisdom. It was the language that helped shape the way I saw things, expressed ideas, and made sense of the world.41.Why was the author’s mother poorly served?A.She was unable to speak good English.B.She was often misunderstood.C.She was not clearly heard.D.She was not very polite.
()till she was thirty. A、She marriedB、She didn ’t marry meC、She married meD、She married with me.
She ever being so kind to me. I felt ____________ to help her when she was in trouble.A、generousB、obligedC、virtuousD、detached
When I entered the teacher ’s office, she ______ at me and then buried her nose to the homework again. A.staredB.lookedC.noticedD.glanced
BI am a writer. I spend a great deal of my time thinking about the power of language—the way it can evoke(唤起) an emotion, a visual image, a complex idea, or a simple truth. Language is the tool of my trade. And I use them all—all the Englishes I grew up with.Born into a Chinese family that had recently arrived in California, I’ve been giving more thought to the kind of English my mother speaks. Like others, I have described it to people as “broken” English. But feel embarrassed to say that. It has always bothered me that I can think of no way to describe it other than “broken”, as if it were damaged and needed to be fixed, as if it lacked a certain wholeness. I’ve heard other terms used, “limited English,” for example. But they seem just as bad, as if everything is limited, including people’s perceptions(认识)of the limited English speaker.I know this for a fact, because when I was growing up, my mother’s “limited” English limited my perception of her. I was ashamed of her English. I believed that her English reflected the quality of what she had to say. That is, because she expressed them imperfectly her thoughts were imperfect. And I had plenty of evidence to support me: the fact that people in department stores, at banks, and at restaurants did not take her seriously, did not give her good service, pretended not to understand her, or even acted as if they did not hear her.I started writing fiction in 1985. And for reasons I won’t get into today, I began to write stories using all the Englishes I grew up with: the English she used with me, which for lack of a better term might be described as “broken”, and what I imagine to be her translation of her Chinese, her internal(内在的) language, and for that I sought to preserve the essence, but neither an English nor a Chinese structure: I wanted to catch what language ability tests can never show; her intention, her feelings, the rhythms of her speech and the nature of her thoughts.41. By saying “Language is the tool of my trade”, the author means that ______.A. she uses English in foreign tradeB. she is fascinated by languagesC. she works as a translatorD. she is a writer by profession
I asked her if she would allow me to interview her,and she readily agreed.A: willinglyB: suddenlyC: firmlyD: quickly
I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said again, "it's for Elizaheth." I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in acdou. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface". As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she ebose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace-it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and l could stop trying to make her into someone she was not. Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words. What did mother do with her daughter's letter asking forgiveness?A.She had never received the letter.B.For years, she often talked about the letter.C.She didn't forgive her daughter at all in all her life.D.She read the letter again and again till she died.
I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said again, "it's for Elizaheth." I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in acdou. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface". As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she ebose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace-it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and l could stop trying to make her into someone she was not. Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words. The passage shows that _______A.mother was cold on the surface but kind in her heart to her daughterB.mother was too serious about everything her daughter had doneC.mother cared much about her daughter in wordsD.mother wrote to her daughter in careful words
I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said again, "it's for Elizaheth." I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in acdou. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface". As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she ebose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace-it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and l could stop trying to make her into someone she was not. Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words. The writer began to love her mother's deskA.after mother diedB.before she became a writerC.when she was a childD.when mother gave it to her
I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said again, "it's for Elizaheth." I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in acdou. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface". As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she ebose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace-it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and l could stop trying to make her into someone she was not. Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words. What's the best title of the passage?A.My Letter to MotherB.Mother and ChildrenC.Mv Mother's DeskD.Talks hetween Mother and Me
根据下列内容，回答186-190题。I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mothersat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I de-cided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during herfinal illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said a-gain, "it's for Elizabeth."I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in action. Butas a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface".As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy fami-ly. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she chose that she didforgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disap-pointment, then little interest and, finally, peace--it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't besure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and ! could stop try-ing to make her into someone she was not.Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased thatwriting was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photoof my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letterasks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words.The writer began to love her mother's desk__________.A.after mother diedB.before she became a writerC.when she was a childD.when mother gave it to her
I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat writing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the more wonderful thing in the world. Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother."But the desk," she'd said again, "it's for Elizaheth." I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in acdou. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. They never happened.And a gulf opened between us. I was "too emotional". But she lived "on the surface". As years passed I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she ebose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace-it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to mother. I only knew that I had written it, and l could stop trying to make her into someone she was not. Now the present of her desk told, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside--a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times. Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words. The word "gulf" in the passage means _______A.deep understanding between the old and the youngB.different ideas between the mother and the daughterC.free talks between mother and daughterD.part of the sea going far in land
I recently went to a charity party. At the end of the visit our host told us that the following Monday was his birthday. He asked21, as a gift to him, we would do something kind for someone else on that day. I thought that was a terrible birthday 22 !The following Monday, I saw my neighbor, a new mother, in the garden with her baby, I went outside to say"hello" to her. During the talk, she told me, not in a complaining 23 but just as a matter of fact, about the sleeplessness and the challenges to get anything done with a baby followed by. I 24 the charity party host's request and said,"Hey!Why don't 25 watch your baby for an hour!I will just hang out with him here in the back garden 26 you go in and take an hour to yourself."She was so surprised that she almost cried."Are you 27 Would you be able to do that ""Of course! " I said. "I'd be happy to! " An hour later she came outside with a smile on her face."I have 28 so much done! " she told me, and I told her that I had sung every kid's song I knew and had a good time hanging out with the baby, too. And I was so happy to see her smiling like that.It was one of the best 29 I've ever given, and it has given me the desire to ask the same 30 all my friends this year. I know it will make me feel great to know my friends are out there sharing their wisdom and time with people who can really use it.I recently went to a charity party. At the end of the visit our host told us that the following Monday was his birthday. He asked21, as a gift to him, we would do something kind for someone else on that day. I thought that was a terrible birthday 22 !The following Monday, I saw my neighbor, a new mother, in the garden with her baby, I went outside to say"hello" to her. During the talk, she told me, not in a complaining 23 but just as a matter of fact, about the sleeplessness and the challenges to get anything done with a baby followed by. I 24 the charity party host's request and said,"Hey!Why don't 25 watch your baby for an hour!I will just hang out with him here in the back garden 26 you go in and take an hour to yourself."She was so surprised that she almost cried."Are you 27 Would you be able to do that ""Of course! " I said. "I'd be happy to! " An hour later she came outside with a smile on her face."I have 28 so much done! " she told me, and I told her that I had sung every kid's song I knew and had a good time hanging out with the baby, too. And I was so happy to see her smiling like that.It was one of the best 29 I've ever given, and it has given me the desire to ask the same 30 all my friends this year. I know it will make me feel great to know my friends are out there sharing their wisdom and time with people who can really use it.A.orB.butC.andD.since
I recently went to a charity party. At the end of the visit our host told us that the following Monday was his birthday. He asked21, as a gift to him, we would do something kind for someone else on that day. I thought that was a terrible birthday 22 !The following Monday, I saw my neighbor, a new mother, in the garden with her baby, I went outside to say"hello" to her. During the talk, she told me, not in a complaining 23 but just as a matter of fact, about the sleeplessness and the challenges to get anything done with a baby followed by. I 24 the charity party host's request and said,"Hey!Why don't 25 watch your baby for an hour!I will just hang out with him here in the back garden 26 you go in and take an hour to yourself."She was so surprised that she almost cried."Are you 27 Would you be able to do that ""Of course! " I said. "I'd be happy to! " An hour later she came outside with a smile on her face."I have 28 so much done! " she told me, and I told her that I had sung every kid's song I knew and had a good time hanging out with the baby, too. And I was so happy to see her smiling like that.It was one of the best 29 I've ever given, and it has given me the desire to ask the same 30 all my friends this year. I know it will make me feel great to know my friends are out there sharing their wisdom and time with people who can really use it.A.thatB.howC.ifD.what
Literacy Volunteer Last summer I went through a training program and became a literacy volunteer （扫盲志愿者）. The training I received， though excellent， did not tell me how it was to work with a real student， however. When I began to discover what other people's lives were like because they could not read， I realized the true importance of reading. My first student Jane was a 44-year-old single mother of three. In the first lesson， I found out she walked two miles to the nearest supermarket twice a week because she didn't know which bus to take. When I told her I would get her a bus schedule， she told me it would not help because she could not read it. She said she also had difficulty once she got to the supermarket because she couldn't always remember what she needed. Since she did not know words， she could not write out a shopping list. Also， she could only recognize items by their labels. As a result， if the product had a different label， she would not recognize it as the product she wanted. As we worked together， learning how to read built Jane's self-confidence， which encouraged her to continue in her studies. She began to make rapid progress and was even able to take the bus to the supermarket. After this successful trip， she reported how self-confident she felt. At the end of the program， she began helping her youngest son， Tony， a shy first grader， with his reading. She sat with him before he went to sleep and together they would read bedtime stories. When his eyes became wide with excitement as she read pride was written all over her face， and she began to see how her own hard work in learning to read paid off. As she described this experience， I was proud of myself， too. I found that helping Jane to build her self-confidence was more rewarding than anything I had ever done before. As a literacy volunteer， I learned a great deal about teaching and helping others. In fact， I may have learned more from the experience than Jane did.Jane could not recognize items by their labels.（）A、TrueB、FalseC、Not Given
Literacy Volunteer Last summer I went through a training program and became a literacy volunteer （扫盲志愿者）. The training I received， though excellent， did not tell me how it was to work with a real student， however. When I began to discover what other people's lives were like because they could not read， I realized the true importance of reading. My first student Jane was a 44-year-old single mother of three. In the first lesson， I found out she walked two miles to the nearest supermarket twice a week because she didn't know which bus to take. When I told her I would get her a bus schedule， she told me it would not help because she could not read it. She said she also had difficulty once she got to the supermarket because she couldn't always remember what she needed. Since she did not know words， she could not write out a shopping list. Also， she could only recognize items by their labels. As a result， if the product had a different label， she would not recognize it as the product she wanted. As we worked together， learning how to read built Jane's self-confidence， which encouraged her to continue in her studies. She began to make rapid progress and was even able to take the bus to the supermarket. After this successful trip， she reported how self-confident she felt. At the end of the program， she began helping her youngest son， Tony， a shy first grader， with his reading. She sat with him before he went to sleep and together they would read bedtime stories. When his eyes became wide with excitement as she read pride was written all over her face， and she began to see how her own hard work in learning to read paid off. As she described this experience， I was proud of myself， too. I found that helping Jane to build her self-confidence was more rewarding than anything I had ever done before. As a literacy volunteer， I learned a great deal about teaching and helping others. In fact， I may have learned more from the experience than Jane did.I once could not read.（） A、TrueB、FalseC、Not Given
单选题When she called me a thief, I decided to sue her for ______.AridiculeBscandalCslanderDencumber
单选题—Dad, please tell me when Mum ______. I miss her very much.—She will return when she ______ her task. And she will bring a nice present for you.Areturns; finishesBreturns; will finishCwill return; finishesDwill return; will finish
单选题—Hello! Can I speak to Alice, please? —Sorry. She isn’t in at the moment. — ______ ? Please tell her to call me back on my mobile.ACould I leave a messageBCan you hold the lineCWill you put me throughDMay I take a message