I don’t know __________.

A. who the man is over there　　　　　 B. who is the man over there

C. the man over there was who　　　　 D. the man over there is who

I still don’t believe in ghosts even after my experience at the Rose Inn．1 I have never seen one．But stories have made me feel 2  since then．I arrived at the inn late at night and asked the landlord for a room．

       “There is nothing left,” he said, “ 3 you’d like to sleep in Number 7．”

       “Why not?” I said．“What’s 4 it? I am  5 that I would sleep 6 ．”

       “Nothing,” he said slowly, “but something happened there a few months ago．”

       Every old inn has its own strange stories, so I thought that 7 he told me about it, the better．I was willing to listen to anything for a room to 8 ．

       “A man came here late at night 9 you．” the landlord said, “I thought there was something strange about him because he kept 10 while he was signing his name in the book．He asked me 11 room he could have and I offered him No．7 ．‘ 12   a man who has said he’ll 13 me,’ he said suddenly, ‘with a knife．’ He looked so frightened that I thought I had better 14 him to his room．I closed the door and left him 15．The next day we found him dead, with a knife beside him．He had cut his throat．” The landlord said, “Or 16 had done it．Do you 17 sleeping there now you know the story?”

       “Well,” I said, “no one is 18 me．But I wish you had told me the story 19 ．As it is, I’ll sleep here on the floor in the bar if you have a couple of  20 ．”

1．A．Because               B．Of course            C．At all                   D．Though

2．A．natural                 B．unsafe                 C．brave                  D．uncomfortable

3．A．unless                 B．if                       C．since                  D．whether

4．A．the price               B．wrong with         C．the matter            D．strange for

5．A．so tired                B．so hurt                C．very weak          D．too worried

6．A．somewhere           B．anywhere            C．nowhere              D．everywhere

7．A．the later             B．the quicker         C．the sooner          D．the slower

8．A．rest                      B．live in                C．lie down            D．go to

9．A．like                     B．with                  C．behind                 D．because of

10．A．looking after       B．looking into         C．looking over        D．looking back

11．A．what                  B．which                C．whose               D．whether

12．A．There’s              B．He’s                  C．It’s                   D．That’s

13．A．harm                 B．punish               C．frighten             D．kill

14．A．invite              B．take                   C．bring                   D．allow

15．A．by himself        B．for himself         C．at himself           D．to himself

16．A．whoever         B．nobody              C．anybody            D．someone else

17．A．like                    B．mind                 C．permit               D．promise

18．A．tricking           B．following           C．killing                D．frightening

19．A．at night           B．at once              C．in time               D．in the morning

20．A．chairs           B．blankets          C．books           D．swords

My heart sank when the man at the immigration counter gestured to the back room. I was born and raised in America, and this was Miami, where I live, but they weren’t quite ready to let me in yet.

　 “Please wait in here, Ms. Abujaber,” the immigration officer said. My husband, with his very American last name, accompanied me. He was getting used to this. The same thing had happened recently in Canada when I’d flown to Montreal to speak at a book event. That time they held me for 45 minutes. Today we were returning from a literary festival in Jamaica, and I was shocked that I was being sent “in back” once again.

　　The officer behind the counter called me up and said, “Miss, your name looks like the name of someone who’s on our wanted list. We’re going to have to check you out with Washington.”

　　“How long will it take?”

　　“Hard to say…a few minutes,” he said, “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.” After an hour, Washington still hadn’t decided anything about me.

“Isn’t this computerized?” I asked at the counter, “Can’t you just look me up?”

“Just a few more minutes,” they assured me.

　　After an hour and a half, I pulled my cell phone out to call the friends I was supposed to meet that evening. An officer rushed over. “No phones!” he said, “For all we know you could be calling a terrorist cell and giving them information.”

　　“I’m just a university professor,” I said. My voice came out in a squeak.

　　“Of course you are. And we take people like you out of here in leg irons every day.”

　　I put my phone away.

　　My husband and I were getting hungry and tired. Whole families had been brought into the waiting room, and the place was packed with excitable children, exhausted parents, and even a flight attendant.

　　I wanted to scream, to jump on a chair and shout: “I’m an American citizen; a novelist; I probably teach English literature to your children.”

After two hours in detention (扣押), I was approached by one of the officers. “You’re free to go,” he said. No explanation or apologies. For a moment, neither of us moved. We were still in shock. Then we leaped to our feet.

　　“Oh, one more thing,” he handed me a tattered photocopy with an address on it, “If you aren’t happy with your treatment, you can write to this agency.”

　　“Will they respond?” I asked.

　　“I don’t know—I don’t know of anyone who’s ever written to them before.” Then he added,” By the way, this will probably keep happening each time you travel internationally.”

　　“What can I do to keep it from happening again?”

　　He smiled the empty smile we’d seen all day, “Absolutely nothing.”

　　After telling several friends about our ordeal, probably the most frequent advice I’ve heard in response is to change my name. Twenty years ago, my own graduate school writing professor advised me to write under a pen name so that publishers wouldn’t stick me in what he called “the ethnic ghetto”—a separate, secondary shelf in the bookstore. But a name is an integral part of anyone’s personal and professional identity—just like the town you’re born in and the place where you’re raised.

　　Like my father, I’ll keep the name, but my airport experience has given me a whole new perspective on what diversity and tolerance are supposed to mean. I had no idea that being an American would ever be this hard.

1.The author was held at the airport because ______.

A. she and her husband returned from Jamaica

B. her name was similar to a terrorist’s

C. she had been held in Montreal

D. she had spoken at a book event

2.She was not allowed to call her friends because ______.

A. her identity hadn’t been confirmed yet

B. she had been held for only one hour and a half

C. there were other families in the waiting room

D. she couldn’t use her own cell phone

3.We learn from the passage that the author would ______ to prevent similar experience from happening again.

A. write to the agency?????????? B. change her name??

C. avoid traveling abroad??????? D. do nothing

4.Her experiences indicate that there still exists ______ in the US.

A. hatred???????????????????? B. discrimination?????

C. tolerance?????????????????? D. diversity

5.The author sounds ______ in the last paragraph.

A. impatient?? B. bitter???????? C. worried??????????? D. ironic (具有讽刺意味的)

While Nick was on the bus, reading his newspaper, the man sitting next to him suddenly pushed a large envelope into his hands. “Here, take this!” the man said, stood up and got off the bus before Nick could say a word.

Nick sat there, holding the envelope. It felt heavy. There were papers inside, or money perhaps. “I’d better hand it over to the police,” he thought. There was a police station close to his office. But, as he got off the bus, a man came to him. He seemed to be waiting for something. “He wants the envelope,” Nick thought. Nick began to walk quickly, and the man hurried after him. Nick started to run, and the man began to run, too. But then, just before he got to the police station, Nick managed to lose the man in the crowds. When he entered the police station, the man was no longer in sight.

Inside the police station, Nick handed over the envelope to a policeman in charge. The man opened it. The envelope was full of money, false money. “Clearly the man made a mistake,” the policeman said. “He thought you were one of the gang (团伙)!”

Nick felt like a hero. He could already see his name in all the papers. He could imagine an interview on television.

“However,” the policeman went on, “I’m afraid I must ask you to keep quiet about all this. We’re trying to catch some very clever thieves, and we don’t want them to know that we have some of the money. So you mustn’t say a word to anyone – not even your boss!”

56. The man who suddenly gave Nick an envelope was most probably________.

A. Nick’s friend    B. a thief    C. the bus driver    D. a postman

57. Nick decided to give the envelope over to the police probably because_________.

A. the whole thing was strange          B. another man was waiting for it

C. he didn’t want the money inside it     D. the police station was near his office

58. As Nick got off the bus, a man came to him because_________.

A. he wanted to catch Nick             B. he thought Nick was a policeman

C. he wanted to give Nick some money   D. he thought Nick was one of their gang

59. What is the main idea of the passage?

A. Nick had an unusual experience.          

B. Nick became a hero.

C. A gang of thieves were caught.

D. A gang of thieves made a mistake.