多选题 3.00分

共用题干 To Have and Have NotIt had been boring hanging about the hotel all afternoon.The road crew were...

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

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