THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the greenroom. When he entered the room, Sibyl Vane looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy came over her. "How badly I acted tonight, Dorian!" she cried. "Horribly!" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly! It was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what I suffered."

"Dorian," she answered, "you should have understood. But you understand now, don't you?" "Understand what?" he asked, angrily. "Why I was so bad tonight. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall never act well again."

"Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. You taught me what reality really is. Tonight, for the first time in my life, I saw through the silliness of the empty theatre in which I had always played. You had made me understand what love really is. Even if I could do it, it would be an offence for me to play at being in love. You have made me see that."

He threw himself down on the sofa and turned away his face. "You have killed my love," he muttered. "You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect. You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. Without your art you are nothing."

The girl grew white and trembled. "You are not serious, Dorian?" she murmured. "You are acting." "Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well," he answered bitterly. [...] "I am going," he said at last in his calm clear voice. "I don't wish to be unkind, but I can't see you again." He turned and left the room. In a few moments he was out of the theatre.

By Oscar Wilde

Билет №19

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MIND YOUR MANNERS

Do you ever speak with your mouth full of food? Do you forget to cover your mouth with your hand when you sneeze? If you are guilty of these 'crimes', then perhaps you should en­rol on an Etiquette and Social Skills course. This is not just an ordinary course, it's a course inmanners. You will have lessons in good manners and how to behave in social situations.

The person who teaches these lessons is Maggie O'Farrill at the Petite Protocol School, and her students are aged between six and twelve years old. She thinks this is the best time to teach kids. "At this age they are very easy," O'Farrill says.

"When they get older, it's harder for them to break bad habits. Children at this age wantto be polite. You can see that they're trying."

Maggie instructs the children to speak properly on the phone and walk correctly. These classes have become popular because parents want well-behaved children but they are too busy to teach manners at home.

So, what do the children actually think of this course? The classes have proved to be popular with most of the children, and their teachers at school have noticed that the youngsters are treating each other with more respect. They also feel the skills theyhavelearnt will be useful to them in the future. Danny, aged nine, commented, "If I get invited to the White House, I know I won't spill anything on the President."

Maggie O'Farrill herself believes that such skills can be life-changing. "We'll have children growing up who value manners. Maybe we'll see a change in direction for the better in society." That, however, remains to be seen. Only time will tell.

2. Говорение.

Билет №20

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THE CRISIS

On the desk of Peter McDermott was a fresh pile of mail and memos. Peter looked through them all, deciding that there was nothing that could not be left until tomorrow. Beneath the memos was a folder which he opened. It was the proposed master catering plan which the sous-chef, Andre' Lemieux, had given him yesterday. Peter began studying the plan this morning.

Glancing at his watch, he decided to continue his reading before making an evening tour of the hotel. He spread the precisely hand-written pages and carefully drawn charts before him.

As he read on, his admiration for the young sous-chef grew. The presentation looked masterly, revealing a broad grasp both of the hotel's problems and the potentialities of its restaurant business. Peter became angry, that the chef de cuisine, M. Hebrand, had — according to Lemieux — dismissed the proposals entirely.

A telephone call brought the information that, this evening, the chef de cuisine was absent because of continued illness, and that the sous-chef, M. Lemieux, was in charge. Peter said that he was coming down to the kitchen now.

Andre' Lemieux was waiting at the door from the main dining-room. "Come in, monsieur! You are welcome". Entering the noisy, steaming kitchen, the young sous-chef shouted close to Peter's ear. "You find us near the peak of work".

In contrast to the comparative quietness of yesterday afternoon, the atmosphere now, in early evening, was hellish. With a full shift on duty, chefs in starched whites, their assistant cooks and juniors were everywhere. Around them, through waves of steam of heat, sweating kitchen helpers noisily pushed trays, pans and cauldrons, while others thrust trolleys carelessly, all turning away from each other as well as hurrying waiters and waitresses, with serving trays held high. On steam tables the day's dinner menu dishes were being portioned and served for delivery to dining-rooms. Special orders — from a la carte menus and for room service — were being prepared by fast-moving cooks whose arms and hands seemed everywhere at once.

A "Hotel" by Arthur Hailey

Билет №21

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DID SHERLOCK HOLMES EXIST?

One evening, about the turn of the last century, several guests sat around a dinner table discussing famous murders and unsolved crimes. One of the guests, Dr Joseph Bell, a famous Edinburgh surgeon and university professor, surprised the others with his unusual deductive abilities.

"The trouble with most people", he said, "is that they see, but do not observe. Any really good detective ought to be able to tell, before a stranger has sat down, his occupation, habits, and past history through rapid observation and deduction. Glance at a man and you find his nationality written on his face, his means of living on his hands, and the rest of the story in his gait¹, manners, tattoo marks, and clothes".

One of the guests remarked, "Why, Dr Bell might almost be Sherlock Hol­mes". "My dear sir, I am Sherlock Holmes", Dr Bell said. Dr Bell was not joking. He was, indeed, the original Sherlock Holmes, the prototype for the famous Conan Doyle's creation. As you might know, Arthur Conan Doyle studied to be a doctor at the University of Edinburgh. While at University, Doyle was greatly influenced by Joseph Bell, one of his professors.

Dr Bell was famous for his keen² powers of observation³ and deduction. He could diagnose⁴ a patient's disease just by observing him.

Dr Bell's lectures always filled the hall. The students admired him and thought him a magician. Bell never failed to surprise them.

Dr Bell's detecting genius was known to the police. He worked hand in hand with Sir Henry Littlejohn, Edinburgh police surgeon, and helped to solve sev­eral complicated crimes. When Arthur Conan Doyle decided to write his first detective story he remembered Dr Bell. He called him Sherlock Holmes.

2. Говорение.

Билет №22

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A FUR JACKET

One day Hortense, walking along Baltimore Street near its junction with Fifteenth Street — the smartest portion of the shopping section of the city — at the noon hour — with Doris, another shop-girl in her department store, saw in the window of one of the smaller and less exclusive fur stores of the city, a fur jacket of beaver that to her was exactly what she needed to strengthen mightily her very limited personal wardrobe. It was not such an expensive coat, worth possibly a hundred dollars — but fashioned in such an individual way as to make her imagine that, once invested with it, her physical charm would show more than it even had.

Moved by this thought, she paused and exclaimed: "Oh, isn't that j ust classiest darlingest little coat you ever saw! Oh, look at those sleeves, Doris". She took her friend by the arm. "Look at thecollar. And the lining! And those pockets! Oh, dear!" She was trembling with intensity of her approval and delight. "Oh, isn't that just too sweet for words?¹ And the very kind of coat I've been thinking of since I don't know when!" she exclaimed. "Oh, if I could only have it".

She clapped her hands admiringly, while Isadore Rubinstein, the elderly son of the proprietor, who was standing somewhat out of the range of her gaze² at the moment, noted the gesture and her enthusiasm and decided immediately that the coat must be worth at least twenty-five or fifty dollars more to her, any how, in case she asked for it. The firm had been offering it at one hundred. He thought to himself about the probable trading value of such a coat. What would such a poor, vain and pretty girl pay for this coat?

Meanwhile, however, Hortense, having stared as long as her lunch-hour would permit, had gone away still dreaming how she would look in such a coat. But she had not stopped to ask the price. The next day, feeling that she must look at it once more, she returned, only this time alone, and yet with no idea of being able to purchase it herself. But seeing the coat once more, she finally came in.

After "An American Tragedy" by Theodore Dreiser

2. Говорение.

Билет №23

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Julie Lewis from Oregon, in the United States, is wearing an expensive-looking pair of boots. They are durable yet fashionable. To look at them you would never know that they were made entirely of recycled materials. Julie owns her own shoemaking company and has achieved a long-term ambition to turn waste into something useful. The shoes are made from all sorts of otherwise useless materials, including textile scraps, rubber from tyres, and plastic bags. Julie knows that she cannot solve the world's environmental problems single-handed, but nevertheless she feels she is doing good at a local level.

Recycling has become extremely popular in the US, particularly in recent years when the number of recycling schemes has increased by 500 percent. 65 percent of aluminium cans are recycled plus a quarter of paper and 20 percent of glass. The enthusiasm for re­using materials has come from the realisation that Americans produce far more waste per person than most Europeans; a total of 200 million tons a year. This is twice as much peris capita as Germany, for example, and it would be enough to fill a line of dustbin lorries stretching eight times around the world.

America even exports its waste. Taiwan buys used paper to make more paper and Japan uses American scrap metal and makes it into new cars, which it then sells back to the US. Two thirds of the remaining waste is buried in landfill sites. Disposal of waste poses a major problem. Landfill sites can cause pollution of water supplies. And as sites fill up, new ones need to be found. Some rubbish is burnt but this pollutes the atmosphere. The obvious answer, then, is to recycle more. Recycling is already big business - Julie Lewis being a per­fect example. Her company has already attracted millions of dollars worth of investment. Recycled products are no longer seen as poor quality goods but as desirable alternatives.

2. Говорение.

Билет №24

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Half a mile from home, at the far edge of the woods where the land was highest, a great pine tree stood. The top of this ancient tree towered above all the others and made it visible for miles and miles. Sylvia had always believed that whoever climbed to the top of it could see the ocean. Now she thought of the tree with a new excitement. Why, if she climbed at dawn, would she not be able to see the whole world, and discover where the white heron flew, and find its hidden nest?

What an adventure! As she lay awake in her bed, she thought of the glory and triumph of telling everyone the secret of where the heron hid. Sylvia knew her mother and her guest were fast asleep, so she crept out of the house and followed the path through the woods. The air was filled with the sleepy songs of half-awakened birds.

There was a huge tree, seeming to sleep in the fading moonlight. Sylvia bravely began to climb, the blood racing through her veins, her bare hands and feet gripping the bark. First she had to climb the oak tree that grew alongside. Sylvia felt her way easily. She had often climbed there before, and knew that higher up one of the oak's upper branches rubbed against the pine trunk. When she reached it, the way was harder than she had thought. The sharp twigs scratched her, and the sticky pine sap made her little fingers clumsy and stiff.

The tree seemed to grow taller as she climbed, and she began to doubt if she could reach her goal before dawn. But Sylvia passed the last thorny branch, her face shining with triumph as she stood at the very top, weak and shaking with exhaustion.

2. Говорение.

Билет №25

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Shirley was preparing to leave her friend Caroline for the night when Caroline's guardian and uncle, Mr Helstone, entered. He seemed to be upset. "I'm glad you haven't gone, Shirley," he said. "I need a favour from you." Caroline joined them, expecting a lecture on ' their absence from church that morning.

"I shall not sleep at home tonight," her uncle continued. "I have just met an old friend U-f and promised to go to his home. I shall return about noon tomorrow. Now..."

Shirley interrupted him, pleased that Mr Helstone was ready to place his trust in her. "I understand," she said. "Do you Want me to stay in the house and watch over your niece and maids while you are away?"

As it was growing late, the arrangements were made quickly, and the girls agreed not (J to separate. Mr Helstone's reason for making these arrangements was that he knew riots Q were possible that evening. "If there should be any trouble in the night, if you should hear the picking of a lock, the breaking of glass or the sound of steps in the house, what would you do? I am not afraid to tell you, that such incidents are very possible in the present time. So tell me, how would you behave?"

"I don't know," replied Shirley light-heartedly. "Perhaps I would faint - fall down and Q] have to be picked up again!" She laughed, then requested and received the loan of a pair of <Ј pistols, and Mr Helstone went on his way.

The two girls ate supper, then moved to some seats in the bay window. They were silent, 7s listening for any noise or disturbance. Every window and door was locked and bolted, but Shirley kept the pistols by her side, and gave Caroline a small, sharp knife. The two girls did not want to go to bed, and sat silent for half an hour in a state of nervous excitement. The night was very still, and the air was clear.

2. Говорение

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