When you are finished, go to the Web Links or choose a different activity or chapter from the menu on the left.
Questions 1–4 refer to the following excerpt.
WHAT KIND OF PERSON IS ARKADY? "Where do we go now?" "You go." "I came back for you," Irina said. "We can get away, we can stay in America." "I don’t want to stay." Arkady looked up. "I never wanted to stay. I only came because I knew Osborne would kill you if I didn’t." "Then we’ll both go home." "You are home. You’re American now, Irina, you’re what you always wanted to be." He smiled. "You’re not Russian anymore. We always were different, and now I know what the difference was." "You’ll change, too." "I’m Russian." He tapped his chest. "The longer I’m here, the more Russian I am." "No." She shook her head angrily. "Look at me." Arkady pulled himself to his feet. One leg was numb. "Don’t cry. See what I am: Arkady Renko, former Party member and chief investigator. If you love me, tell me truthfully how American I could ever be. Tell me!" he shouted. "Tell me," he said more softly, "admit it, don’t you see a Russian?" "We came all this way. I won’t let you go back alone, Arkasha—" "You don’t understand." He took Irina’s face in his hands. "I’m not as brave as you are, not brave enough to stay. Please, let me go back. You will be what you already are, and I will be what I am. I will always love you." Martin Cruz Smith, Gorky Park, 1981
Questions 5–8 refer to the following excerpt.
WHAT DID JIM AND DELLA GIVE EACH OTHER? For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshiped for long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jeweled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone. But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say, "My hair grows so fast, Jim!" And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!" Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit. "Isn’t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it." Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled. "Della," said he, "let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ‘em awhile. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on." O. Henry, "The Gift of the Magi," The Four Million, 1906
Questions 9 and 10 refer to the following excerpt.
HOW DID THE YOUTH REACT WHEN HE HEARD THE SOUNDS OF BATTLE? The trees began softly to sing a hymn of twilight. The sun sank until slanted bronze rays struck the forest. There was a lull in the noises of insects as if they had bowed their beaks and were making a devotional pause. There was silence save for the chanted chorus of the trees. Then, upon this stillness, there suddenly broke a tremendous clangor of sounds. A crimson roar came from the distance. The youth stopped. He was transfixed by this terrific medley of all noises. It was as if worlds were being rended. There was the ripping sound of musketry and the breaking crash of artillery. His mind flew in all directions. He conceived the two armies to be at each other panther fashion. He listened for a time. Then he began to run in the direction of the battle. He saw that it was an ironical thing for him to be running thus toward that which he had been at such pains to avoid. But he said, in substance, to himself that if the earth and the moon were about to clash, many persons would doubtless plan to get upon the roofs to witness the collision. Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage, 1895