Comprehension and Discussion Questions. 1. Why had Chad left England and come to live with an American family?
1. Why had Chad left England and come to live with an American family?
2. What had happened to Chad's father?
3. Why were Pat and Bill very disappointed to receive the letter from Captain Burroughs, the friend of Chad's father?
4. What offer did Captain Burroughs make to Chad in his letter?
5. After reading Captain Burroughs' letter, why did Chad decide immediately to return to England?
6. Why didn't Pat wish to go to the station with Bill to see Chad off?
7. What letter arrived just as Chad and Bill were about to leave?
8. To what country, according to the letter, was Captain Burroughs' mother being removed?
9. Why did Chad now feel that he was relieved of the obligation to return to England?
10. What did Chad mean when he said that he felt "like a million bucks"?
Vocabulary and Idiom Review
A. Match the word in the left-hand column with its OPPOSITE in the right-hand column:
1. lower ___________ fat
2. weak ___________ many
3. few ___________ little
4. east ___________ borrow
5. south ___________ less
6. thin ___________ strong
7. lend ___________ light
8. before ___________ north
9. more ___________ north
10. dark ___________ west
___________ higher
___________ after
B. Use the following expressions in sentences of your own:
1. go well 5. break in 9. kid someone
2. feel like a million bucks 6. be upset 10. in other words
3. be fond of 7. in fact 11. had better do something
4. of course 8. wake up 12. rain or shine
C. One of the most common endings in English is -ness. It is used to change adjectives into nouns.
Example: He's always very kind; he shows his kindness in a thousand small ways.
Change the following adjectives to nouns by adding -ness. Then use each of the resulting words in a sentence of your own:
1. sudden ___________ ____________________________________________________________
2. polite ___________ ____________________________________________________________
3. serious ___________ ____________________________________________________________
4. eager ___________ ____________________________________________________________
5. foolish ___________ ____________________________________________________________
6. late ___________ ____________________________________________________________
7. happy ___________ ____________________________________________________________
8. sharp ___________ ____________________________________________________________
9. soft ___________ ____________________________________________________________
10. bright ___________ ____________________________________________________________
Final Break
By Ian S. Thompson
They had been walking along Oxford Street. Now they stopped, Greg's hand on her arm.
"This is the place," he said. "I thought you might get the sort of thing you liked here."
Helen nodded, but there were tears in her eyes as she looked through the shopwindow. The new hat had been his idea, not hers.
"What about that black one?" He pointed. "It would go with your suit!"
Her lips trembled. One of the little things she loved so much about him was the really genuine interest he had always taken in what she wore. It had made you feel young somehow, loved, though in your heart you knew you were young no longer.
"Yes. Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" She carefully avoided meeting his eyes, because there was so much in her own eyes that he must never see.
They went into the shop. A clerk appeared to wait on them.
Helen described the hat. It was in the window.
She was wishing now that they had never come into the shop. But Greg had been insistent. He wanted to give her something. A parting gift, he had called it.
He was smiling now out of blue, untroubled eyes. Which surprised her. And yet why should it, she asked herself, as she took the hat from the clerk and placed it on her blue-grey hair? She had always tried to be modern, and part of modernity was to see these things through bravely, when and if they came.
Her mind turned back. And she saw herself in the hat shop mirror, not as someone in a black tailored suit, but as a bride. Smiling, radiant, on Greg's arm. At least they had said she had looked like that. She had never thought of it, never cared. She had been so completely, so blindly happy.
Five minutes later they were out again in the sunshine of the street and Greg, after looking at his watch, suggested tea.
"I know a place —" There was an expression of excitement in his eyes which she could not understand. "You'll like it there."
It was a small, very ordinary cafe in one of the side streets off Oxford Street. He ordered for them both, and then leaned back.
He didn't speak, but his hand came out across the table and took hers.
"Please, God, don't let me cry," she prayed. “Not so long as he's with me."
The tea arrived. He drank one cup quickly, lit himself a cigarette, and then said:
"You're quite certain that you want to stay on in tint house alone? I mean — well, I feel rather badly about the whole thing, and if there's anything I could do —"
There was one thing, but it would have been hysterical weakness to have suggested it. She shook her head. She didn't want him to have any feelings of regret, any pains of conscience. It had been wonderful having him for all those years.
"No, really," she said. "It'll be all right."
But he still didn't seem satisfied.
"There's another thing I'd like to mention," he said. "I didn't say anything about it before because I know — well, I know how sensitive you are about that sort of thing—" He broke off and then went hurriedly on, his eyes avoiding hers. "It's money. I've arranged with the bank. . . ."
The color came at once to her cheeks. Not because of any false pride. That was a luxury you couldn't afford if you had no one to support you. But —
"Oh, Greg, you shouldn't," she said with embarrassment.
He brushed that aside. Angrily almost.
"Why not? It's something I want to do. And Sandra—" He mentioned the girl's name — "she agrees. We were talking about it last night."
Sandra. . . . We. . . . How easily, familiarly, he spoke of her, Helen thought with an ache. And yet two months ago they hadn't even met. Two months. . . . Was it really only that time since he'd gone up to London on that business trip?
She had realized, of course, after he came back, that there was something, although he hadn't actually said a word then. Some deep-rooted woman's instinct had warned her that he wasn't all hers any longer, that she was sharing him with someone else.
A girl. Young, fresh, and lovely. The imagined picture had filled her with a sense of panic. He had changed his job for a better one and gone up to live in London. For a month she hadn't seen him. And she had never met the girl.
Sandra . . . She worked in the advertising business, he had told her. And very clever. But that didn't matter to Helen. When you have loved somebody with every part of you, you did not think of cleverness in considering that younger person to whom you were losing him.
Was she really nice? Would she work to keep him happy as you had tried to do?
But Sandra, . . . The name had a sharp quality. You couldn't imagine a girl with a name like that being — Helen's eyes were drawn to a girl who had just walked into the cafe, who was looking around hesitantly — well like that, for instance.
Then the girl turned. She was beautiful, with a shy, sweet loveliness that caught at your heart. Helen stayed, quite unconscious that she was staring. And then her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Greg rise to his feet. The girl was hurrying towards their table.
"So you were able to get here, darling!" She heard Greg's voice and then he had turned, was smiling down at her. "A little surprise," he said. "This is Sandra, Mother. Tomorrow's happy bride!"