—Hi, Tom. Any idea where Jane is? —She_____in the classroom. I saw her there just now.A. shall be B. should have beenC. must be D. might have been
—Hi, Tom. Any idea where Jane is? —She_____in the classroom. I saw her there just now.
A. shall be B. should have been
C. must be D. might have been
相关考题：
–You don’t know Jane, do you?–() A、No.B、Jane? I’ve known her for years.C、Yes.D、It’s my pleasure.
–Hi. I’m your neighbor. My name is Steve Edwin.–(). A、What are you from?B、Oh.C、Yes, I know.D、Hi. It’s good to see you. I’m Jane Peterson.
–Hi, Jane. Mind if I have lunch with you?–(). A、Sure, have a seatB、Yes, but I don’t knowC、I’m sadD、No, not at all
―I saw Alice in tears yesterday. What happened to her?―Nothing important. __________ a lit cigarette burned a hole in her new skirt. A.Just forB.Just thatC.Just becauseD.Only because
When I saw her smiling face, I knew she _____ from her son studying abroaD. A.hearB.has heardC.had heardD.was hearing
---Hi, Tom. Any idea where Jane is?---Shein the classroom. I saw her there just now.A. shall be B. should have been C. must beD. might have been
Ben: Hi, Tom. Want to go and play bowling tonight?Tom: _________When and where shall we meet?A． It's smartB． Sounds goodC． It is possibleD． Looks good
9．—Where-s Mr Wu ,do you know?—Well ,lt's hard to say． But I saw him ________a football game just now．A． was watchingB． watchingC． had watchedD． watched
You won't be seeing Jane any more. The boss fired her. She is gone ().A、for allB、for goodC、for the timeD、for days
When I saw her crying.I realized I ( ) her the news so soon. A、shouldn't have toldB、should not tellC、should have toldD、must have told
– Hi, Tom. How is everything going? _______ A、 No, I don’t.B、 Yes, please.C、 Thank you a lot.D、 Not bad.
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.
--Hi, Johnson, any idea where Susan is!--It's class time, so she__________ in the classroom now.A.can beB.must have beenC.might have beenD.should be
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
I didn't ignore her intentionally—I just didn't recognize her.A:sufficientlyB:noticeablyC:deliberatelyD:absolutely
Lisa was running late.Lisa,25,had a lot to do at work,plus visitors on the way:her parents were coming in for Thanksgiving from her hometown.But as she hurried down the subway stairs,she started to feel uncomfortably warm.By the time she got to the platform,Lisa felt weak and tired—maybe it hadn′t been a good idea to give blood the night before,she thought.She rested herself against a post close to the tracks.Several yards away,Frank,43,and his girlfriend,Jennifer,found a spot close to where the front of the.train would stop.They were deep in discussion about a house they were thinking of buying.But when he heard the scream,followed by someone yelling,"Oh,my God,she fell in!"Frank didn′t hesitate.He jumped down to the tracks and ran some 40 feet toward the body lying on the rails."No!Not you!"his girlfriend screamed after him.She was right to be alarmed.By the time Frank reached Lisa,he could feel the tracks shaking and see the light coming.The train was about 20 seconds from the station.It was hard to lift her.She was just out.But he managed to raise her the four feet to the platform so that bystanders could hold her by the arms and drag her away from the edge.That was where Lisa briefly regained consciousness,felt herself being pulled along the ground,and saw someone else holding her purse.Lisa thought she′d been robbed.A woman held her hand and a man gave his shirt to help stop the blood pouring from her head.And she tried to talk but she couldn′t,and that was when she realized how much pain she was in.Police and fire officials soon arrived,and Frank told the story to an officer.Jennifer said her boyfriend was calm on their 40-minute train ride downtown—just as he had been seconds after the rescue,which made her think about her reaction at the time."I saw the train coming and I was thinking he was going to die,"she explained.How did Frank save Lisa?A.By lifting her to the platform.B.By helping her rise to her feet.C.By pulling her along the ground.D.By dragging her away from the edge.
单选题The sales manager was so adamant about her idea that it was out of the question for any one to talk her out of it.AadaptableBanxiousCfirmDtalkative
单选题Jane: Hi Tim! Tim: Jane! Jane: How are you? Tim: Fine. Jane: ______ Have you been here long? Tim: I arrived yesterday, on Sunday. ______ Jane: I got here a few days ago.ALovely weather, isn’t it? ; I’m worn out.BAnd you? ; I came here with Sue.CI’d been wondering when I’d run into you. ; How about you?DHow time flies! ; I’ve been longing to see you for weeks.
单选题Sylvia: That didn’t take long, did it? Anna: No, she said the train was quite quick.______ Sylvia: Well, she said something about a bus, I think. Wait a minute. Yes, here we are. “…a number 32 bus as far as Brixton Road.”ABut I’m too tired to go any further.BBut how are we going to get to her house?CI’m a little confused. Where are we now?DI know that you just can’t wait to see her.
单选题I made the cake by（）Help yourself, Tom. Thanks, Jane.AourselvesBhimselfCmyselfDherself