When it came to concealing his troubles, Tommy Wilhelm was not less capable than the next fellow. So at least he thought, and there was a certain amount of evidence to back him up. He had once been an actor—no, not quite, an extra—and he knew what acting should be. Also, he was smoking a cigar, and when a man is smoking a cigar, wearing a hat, he has an advantage: it is harder to find out how he feels. He came from the twenty-third floor down to the lobby on the mezzanine to collect his mail before breakfast, and he believed — he hoped — that he looked passably well: doing all right. It was a matter of sheer hope, because there was not much that he could add to his present effort. On the fourteenth floor he looked for his father to enter the elevator; they often met at this hour, on the way to breakfast. If he worried about his appearance it was mainly for his old father's sake. But there was no stop on the fourteenth, and the elevator sank and sank. Then the smooth door opened and the great dark-red uneven carpet that covered the lobby billowed toward Wilhelm's feet. In the foreground the lobby was dark, sleepy. French drapes like sails kept out the sun, but three high, narrow windows were open, and in the blue air Wilhelm saw a pigeon about to light on the great chain that supported the marquee of the movie house directly underneath the lobby. For one moment he heard the wings beating strongly.
Most of the guests at the Hotel Gloriana were past the age of retirement. Along Broadway in the Seventies, Eighties, and Nineties, a great part of New York's vast population of old men and women lives. Unless the weather is too cold or wet they fill the benches about the tiny railed parks and along the subway gratings from Verdi Square to Columbia University, they crowd the shops and cafeterias, the dime stores, the tearooms, the bakeries, the beauty parlors, the reading rooms and club rooms. Among these old people at the Gloriana, Wilhelm felt out of place. He was comparatively young, in his middle forties, large and blond, with big shoulders; his back was heavy and strong, if already a little stooped or thickened. After breakfast the old guests sat down on the green leather armchairs and sofas in the lobby and began to gossip and look into the papers: they had nothing to do but wait out the day. But Wilhelm was used to an active life and liked to go out energetically in the morning. And for several months, because he had no position, he had kept up his morale by rising early: he was shaved and in the lobby by eight o'clock. He bought the paper and some cigars and drank a Coca-Cola or two before he went in to breakfast with his father. After breakfast—out, out, out to attend to business. The getting out had in itself become the chief business. But he had realized that he could not keep this up much longer, and today he was afraid. He was aware that his routine was about to break up and he sensed that a huge trouble long presaged(预感)but till now formless was due. Before evening, he'd know.
Nevertheless he followed his daily course and crossed the lobby.
Rubin, the man at the newsstand, had poor eyes. They may not have been actually weak but they were poor in expression, with lacy lids that furled down at the corners. He dressed well. It didn't seem necessary—he was behind the counter most of the time—but he dressed very well. He had on a rich brown suit; the cuffs embarrassed the hairs on his small hands. He wore a Countess Mara painted necktie. As Wilhelm approached, Rubin did not see him; he was looking out dreamily at the Hotel Ansonia, which was visible from his corner, several blocks away. The Ansonia, the neighborhood's great landmark, was built by Stanford White. It looks like a baroque palace from Prague or Munich enlarged a hundred times, with towers, domes, huge swells and bubbles of metal gone green from exposure, iron fretwork and festoons. Black television antennae are densely planted on its round summits. Under the changes of weather it may look like marble or like sea water, black as slate in the fog, white as tufa in sunlight. This morning it looked like the image of itself reflected in deep water, white and cumulous above, with cavernous distortions underneath. Together, the two men gazed at it.
Then Rubin said, “Your dad is in to breakfast already, the old gentleman.”
“Oh, yes?Ahead of me today?”
“That's a real knocked-out shirt you got on,” said Rubin.“Where’s it from, Saks?”
“No, it’s a Jack Fagman—Chicago.”
Even when his spirits were low, Wilhelm could still wrinkle his forehead in a pleasing way. Some of the slow, silent movements of his face were very attractive. He went back a step, as if to stand away from himself and get a better look at his shirt. His glance was comic, a comment upon his untidiness. He liked to wear good clothes, but once he had put it on each article appeared to go its own way. Wilhelm, laughing, panted a little; his teeth were small; his cheeks when he laughed and puffed grew round, and he looked much younger than his years. In the old days when he was a college freshman and wore a beanie(无檐小帽)on his large blonde head his father used to say that, big as he was, he could charm a bird out of a tree. Wilhelm had great charm still.
“I like this dove-gray color,” he said in his sociable, good-natured way. “It isn’t washable. You have to send it to the cleaner. It never smells as good as washed. But it’s a nice shirt. It cost sixteen, eighteen bucks.”
1. Wilhelm hoped he looked all right on his way to the lobby because he wanted to________.A.leave a good impression | B.give his father a surprise |
C.show his acting potential | D.disguise his low spirit |
A.lived a luxurious life | B.liked to swap gossips |
C.idled their time away | D.liked to get up early |
A.He felt something ominous was coming. | B.He was worried that his father was late. |
C.He was feeling at ease among the old. | D.He was excited about a possible job offer. |
A.His shirt made him look better. | B.He cared much about his clothes. |
C.He looked like a comedian in his shirt. | D.The clothes he wore never quite matched. |
相似题推荐
【推荐1】About 43 years ago, spotted an advertisement in the paper for the YMCA wilderness program.
We stopped for lunch in the boat by gathering all the boats together.
At night it was time to camp at our site picked out by our guide. There we learned to start campfires and cook some of our meals. This is where fell in love with noodles.
There were no phones, makeup, hair dryers... just us and the bush. We came from different backgrounds with different personalities and we all had to work together as a group.
A.They dropped us off in the bush. |
B.I had to experience more of the wilderness. |
C.I was 15 and wanted to do something different. |
D.Our guide handed out chocolate, cheese, and dried meat. |
E.I liked the boat trip so much that I joined the survival trip the next year. |
F.It was wonderful sharing simple meals over the fire and talking with new friends. |
G.As a teenager, didn’t know that I was having the best adventure a teenager could have. |
I got on well with other girls. After school, I often had ice cream with them first instead of finishing my homework before it was time to hand it in. I always finished it the next day between classes. I knew it wasn’t very good and the grades that I got showed I was not hard working enough. I realized that I needed to find some kind of balance.
So I created a timetable that would divide my time between studying and relaxing. It was a good idea but I was only able to follow it for a few days because it made me under too much pressure.
Later, I tried another plan. Each week I listed everything that I had to get done during the week and the time by which I had to get it done. The under the things I had to do, I made another list of things that I could do if I had time.
It worked really well. Ever since I have never missed any important things. At the same time, I enjoyed my spare time a lot.
Planning my time has been challenging, but I continue to do it. I’m glad that I’ve learned to balance things and it has helped prepare for what is coming after graduation.
1. Why did the writer follow the first timetable only for a few days?
A.Because it had a specific list |
B.Because it wasn’t a good idea |
C.Because it brought her too much pressure. |
A.The things she shouldn’t do |
B.the things she had to get done |
C.The things she could do if she had time |
A.The writer had few friends because of bad grade |
B.Learning to balance things is helpful to make plans for the future |
C.The writer preferred to spend more time in relaxing than studying |
A.Facing challenges |
B.Concentrating on lessons |
C.Balancing study and play |
【推荐3】After giving a talk at a high school,I was asked to pay a visit to a special student. An illness had kept the boy home, but he had expressed an interest in meeting me. I was told it would mean a great deal to him, so I agreed.
During the nine-mile drive to his home, I found out something about Matthew. He had muscular dystrophy (肌肉萎缩症).When he was born, the doctor told his parents that he would not live to five, and then they were told he would not make it to ten. Now he was thirteen.He wanted to meet me because I was a Gold-medal power lifter, and I knew about overcoming obstacles and going for my dreams.
I spent over an hour talking to Matthew. Never once did he complain or ask, “Why me?” He spoke about winning and succeeding and going for his dreams.Obviously, he knew what he was talking about. He didn’t mention that his classmates had made fun of him because he was different. He just talked about his hopes for the future, and how one day he wanted to lift weights with me. When we had finished talking, I went to my briefcase (公文包) and pulled out the first gold medal I had won and put it around his neck. I told him he was more of a winner and knew more about success and overcoming obstacles than I ever would. He looked at it for a moment, then took it off and handed it back to me. He said, “You are a champion.You earned that medal. Someday when I get to the Olympics and win my own medal, I will show it to you.”
Last summer I received a letter from Matthew’s parents telling me that Matthew had passed away. They wanted me to have a letter he had written to me a few days before:
Dear Dick,
My mum said I should send you a thank-you letter for the picture you sent me. I also want to let you know that the doctors tell me that I don’t have long to live any more, but I still smile as much as I can.I told you someday that I would go to the Olympics and win a gold medal, but I know now I will never get to do that.However, I know I’m a champion,and God knows that too. When I get to Heaven,God will give me my medal and when you get there,I will show it to you. Thank you for loving me.
Your friend,
Matthew
1. The boy looked forward to meeting the author because .
A.he was also good at weight lifting |
B.he wanted to get to the Olympics and win a medal |
C.he was one of the author’s fans |
D.he admired the author very much |
A.the boy never complained about how unlucky he was to have this disease |
B.the boy never complained about not being able to go to school |
C.the boy never complained why the author had never come to see him before |
D.the boy never complained about not getting a medal |
A.he thought it was too expensive |
B.he was sure that he could win one in the future |
C.he thought it was of no use to him as he would die soon |
D.he would not be pitied by others |
A.A sick boy. | B.A special friend. |
C.A real champion. | D.A famous athlete. |
【推荐1】TOM RACHMAN’S latest novel records the life and legend of Bear Bavinsky, a painter of enormous appetites and all-consuming ego (自我), largely through the eyes of his son, Charles (known as Pinch). Pinch shrinks, unable to escape the giant’s shadow, hoping only to avoid being stepped underfoot.
Pinch is far from the only victim of the Bavinsky legend. Speaking to Natty, his current wife—Pinch’s mother, and a potter whose insecurities provide the ripe target for his bossy (专横的) personality—Bavinsky states,“You are a talent, my Natty, if you want to be. All it takes is a bit more charm.” Bear charms and bullies (霸凌), occupying physical and psychic space. Even his encouragement turns out to be another way to exercise control, proving how far those close to him have fallen short of his own achievement.
“The Italian Teacher” unfolds a story over more than 60 years and across two continents. One of Mr Rachman’s gifts is his ability to describe a time and place in a few skillful strokes. He describes the social and economic shifts of Italy in the 1950s through the Bavinskys’ downstairs neighbors, “a family of workers who, for generations, carved traditional decorations but whose sons are now selling West German electrical devices”.
Though Bear features in the novel, it is Pinch who commands the readers’ respect. Admittedly, he is wanting in confidence, filled with self-hatred, incapable of standing up to his bullying father. Like Natty, he is all damage and insecurity, a victim of Bear’s endless needs. Yet he turns out to be far more than the sum of his failures. He is compensated by his integrity and intelligence. His struggle to find meaning in the mess holds readers’ interest to the end. For all his faults, Pinch is gifted with wisdom, as is the author of this sad, funny and moving novel.
1. Who is “the giant” mentioned in Paragraph One?A.Tom. | B.Bear. |
C.Natty. | D.Pinch. |
A.vain | B.secure |
C.bossy | D.considerate |
A.He was born into an artistic family, Father being a painter. |
B.He was honest and brilliant despite unfavorable conditions. |
C.He dared to fight against his father to find meaning in life. |
D.He went through the social and economic shifts of Italy. |
A.To introduce a book. |
B.To explain an educational phenomenon. |
C.To recommend a writer . |
D.To bring back an era. |
【推荐2】Charles Darnay was arrested again. Lucie, his wife was very worried.
“This is a desperate time,” said Sydney Carton. “We need to have a friend in the prison that will help us, and I think that Basard here will be that friend.”
“Why should I be your friend?” asked John Basard.
“I could begin telling people that you were and may still be a spy for England, the enemy of France. What do you say?”
“You are my sister’s friend,” Basard argued. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to upset her.”
“I think the best thing to be done for her is to get rid of her brother,” said Sydney calmly. “I have another reason that you should help me. I think I know your friend in the wine shop.”
“No, no, that’s not possible. He is French!”
“He spoke very good French, but there was something strange about him. I think it may have been Cly.”
Now Basard laughed.
“No, no, Cly has been dead and buried for several years. He was buried in London, I helped to put his body in the coffin, and I can show you his burial certificate.”
Suddenly, Jerry Cruncher stood up, next to Basard.
“If you put him in his coffin, who took him out of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that he was never in it! All you buried was rocks and earth!”
Sydney Carton rubbed his chin. “If we tell people that you have been talking to another England spy, and one who is supposed to be dead. I am sure that you will go to the guillotine, Basard. What do you say now?”
“What do you want?”
“Can you go in and out of the prison whenever you want?”
“Yes, I can. The guards know me and trust me.”
“Come into the other room with me. I need to talk to you in private now,” said Carton.
Jerry and then Basard were sent out.
Left in the room now were Carton and Lorry, sitting and looking into the fire.
“You are a good man and a true friend,” said Carton. “I am sorry that I could not do more than one visit to Charles.”
Then Sydney Carton continued.
“You are an old man, Mr. Lorry, and many people respect you. You have lived a useful life, and you will be missed when you are gone.”
“I have only done my job,” replied Mr. Lorry. “I am just an old bachelor, and nobody will miss me when I die.”
“Lucie will cry for you, and little Lucie will cry for you, too.”
“Yes, that’s true, thank God!”
“If nobody cried for you, then that would make all your years of work a waste of time, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, you are right, Mr. Carton.”
1. How did Sydney Carton ask John Basard to be his friend?A.In a pleasing tune. |
B.In an appealing tune. |
C.In a threatening tune. |
D.In a hesitating tune. |
A.To give up the business of a spy. |
B.To help Carton visit Charles. |
C.To be a true friend of Sydney’s. |
D.To go to the guillotine with Cly. |
A.To show all people’s respect for his work. |
B.To tell him of two Lucies’ cry for his death. |
C.To wish he would help Lucie and her family. |
D.To say good-bye to the faithful businessman. |
A.Lorry deserved a father figure to Lucie. |
B.People took pity on Darnay’s misfortune. |
C.Barsad was unwilling to make friends with Carton. |
D.Carton went to great lengths to rescue Darnay in prison. |
【推荐3】“What if I told you that I murdered Basil?”
“You couldn’t murder anyone, Dorian. He probably fell into the Seine from a bus. By the way, where’s that wonderful portrait he did of you? Oh! I remember now. You told me years ago that you sent it to Selby Manor and that it got lost or stolen on the way. What a pity! I wanted to buy it. I wish I had now.” Lord Henry said.
“I never really liked it,” said Dorian.
“How have you kept your youth, Dorian? You must have some secret. I’m only ten years older than you are, and I’m wrinkled and old. Please, tell me your secret. To get back my youth, I’d do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.”
When Dorian arrived home that night, he sent his servant to bed, and sat down on the sofa in the library. Then he began to think about his life.
“I’ve been an evil influence on my friends, and I’ve ruined the lives of many good young people,” he thought, “Ah! Why did I pray for the portrait to grow old, and for me to stay young? I worshiped beauty and eternal youth, but they ruined me. It’s better not to think of the past. Nothing can change that. I must think of the future. James Vane is dead. Alan Campbell is dead, too. He shot himself one night in his laboratory.”
“I’m safe now,” he continued. “Basil painted the portrait that ruined my life. I can’t forgive him for that. Everything is the portrait’s fault.”
He began to wonder about the portrait. “If I’m good, maybe the portrait will become beautiful again,” he thought. “I’ll go and look.”
He took the lamp from the table and went upstairs. As he unlocked the door, he smiled. “Yes, I’ll be good,” he thought, “I won’t be frightened of this portrait any more.”
He went upstairs to the room and locked the door. Then he pulled the purple cloth off the portrait. He gave a cry of pain. The portrait was more horrible. His face looked more evil. There was new blood on the hand and on the feet.
Dorian trembled with fear. Dorian looked round the room and saw the knife that stabbed Basil Hallward. It was bright and shining.
“This knife killed the artist, and now it will kill the artist’s work,” he thought.
He grabbed the knife, and then he stabbed the portrait with it.
1. What do we know about Lord Henry from the passage?A.He doubted slightly whether Dorian murdered Basil. |
B.He would do whatever he could to get back his youth. |
C.The portrait he wanted to buy was stolen by Selby Manor. |
D.The truth about how Dorian kept his youth was hidden from him. |
A.Dorian admitted he was badly affected by his friends. |
B.Alan Campbell shot himself one night in his laboratory. |
C.Dorian blamed his sufferings on the portrait and Basil. |
D.Dorian wanted to kill himself so that the portrait could become normal. |
A.Admired. | B.Deserved. | C.Maintained. | D.Ignored. |
A.Because the portrait aroused too much curiosity of his friends. |
B.Because the portrait reflecting his soul made him suffer great pain. |
C.Because he was jealous of the portrait which would never grow old. |
D.Because he thought the portrait would take his youth and beauty away. |