ГЛАГОЛЫ В СКОБКАХ ПОСТАВИТЬ В НУЖНОЕ ВРЕМЯ.
Read the stories, put the verbs in brackets into the right tense form.
2) At the Art Dealers
The little bell on the front door (jingle). A stranger (walk) in. “That picture (I can/see) in the window?” he said. “That still life. Who (be) it by?” “Paul Cezanne.”
“Cezanne? I (never/hear) of him. Is it for sale?” “Air, no, alas, (it/already/ sell).”
Madam Tanguy (see) her chance. A little woman with hard, thin face and bitter eyes, she quickly (rise) from the chair, (throw) off her apron, (push) Pore Tanguy out of the way, and (run) up to the man eagerly.
“But of course it is for sale. It is a beautiful still life. Is it not, Monsieur? ...
you (ever/see) such apples before? We (sell) it to you cheap, if you admire it.” “How much?” “How much, Tanguy?” (ask) Madame Tanguy raising her voice.
Tanguy (swallow) hard. “Three hundred...” “Tanguy!”
“Then, one hundred francs!”
“A hundred francs? I wonder...” said the stranger. “For an unknown painter...
I’m afraid that’s too expensive. I (not/think) I can afford it. I only (prepare) to spend about twenty five.”
The canvas immediately (take) out of the window and (put) before the customer.
“See. Monsieur, it (be) a big picture. There (be) four apples. Four apples (be) a hundred francs. You only want to spend twenty five.” Madam Tanguy (break) off. Suddenly she (suggest): “Then you (can/not/take) one apple? The price is only twenty five francs.”
When the price (mention), the man (begin/to study) the canvas with new interest. “Yes, I could do that. It’s a fair offer. Just (cut) this apple the full length of the canvas and I (take) it.”
Madame (hurry) to her apartment and (return) with a pair of scissors. The end apple (cut) off, (wrap) in a piece of paper and hand to the man. He (pay) the money and (walk) out with the canvas under his arm. The spoiled masterpiece lay on the counter.
“My favourite Cezanne!” (cry) Tanguy unhappily. “I (miss) it so! I put it in the window. I (want) people to see it for a moment and go away happy.”
Madam Tanguy (interrupt) him. “Next time someone (want) a Cezanne and (have/not) much money, sell him an apple. Take anything you can get for it. They (be) worthless anyway, he paints so many of them.
3) Mr Sellyer’s bookshop is across the street from my house. It (be) in a tall modern building and it is quite famous. It is always full of people.
I often (go) there to (look) through new books. In fact, there’s nothing I (like) better than to (look) through the various books he (have) on his shelves. When I (go) to Mr Sellyer’s shop I usually (spend) there several hours.
On that day while I (look) through the books I (watch) Mr Sellyer at work. I (describe) some of his methods to you. A lady (come) into the shop and (ask) for a book.
“Any book or something special?” said Mr Sellyer showing her “Golden Dreams”. “Mr Slush is а famous author and this is his latest book. It is interesting enough to read. The readers (like) his books.”
Another lady (enter) the shop. She was in black. Mr Sellyer also (give) her “Golden Dreams”. “It’s a beautiful book,” he said, “A love story, very simple, but sad, of course. When my wife (read) it she (cry) all the time.”
“You (have) any good light reading for vacation time?” asked the next customer. Mr Sellyer (recommend) “Golden Dreams” again. “The most humorous book of the season,” he said. “My wife (begin) laughing the minute she (take) it. It’s her favourite book now.”
Every customer who (enter) the shop (go) away with “Golden Dreams”. To one lady he (describe) it as the reading for a holiday, to another as a book to read on a rainy day and to a fourth as the right book for a fine day.
It was about four o’clock and time to go home. But before I (leave) the shop I (come) up to Mr Sellyer. I (want) to (discuss) “Golden Dreams” with him.
“You (like) the book yourself?” I asked.
“I have no time to read every book in my shop.” “But your wife (like) the book?”
“I’m not married, sir,” answered Mr Sellyer smiling.
4) Food And Talk
Last week at a dinner party the hostess (ask) me to sit next to Mrs Rumbold. She (be) a large unsmiling lady in a tight black dress. She (not look) up when I (take) my seat beside her. Her eyes (be fixed) on her plate and in a short time she (be) busy eating. I (try) to make conversation.
“A new play is coming to the Globe soon,” I said, “Will you be seeing it?” “No,” she answered.
“Will you be spending your holidays abroad this year?” “No,” she said.
“Will you be staying in England?” I asked. “No,” she answered.
In despair I (ask) her whether she (enjoy) her dinner. “Young man,” she answered, “if you eat more and talk less, we shall both enjoy our dinner.”
I usually have breakfast at half past seven. I live not far from school. My mother is A teacher of Music and she works in my school, so we often go to school together. My mother is A very good teacher. She can play THE piano, THE violin and THE guitar. She knows a lot about music and she tells many interesting stories about THE composers and THE musicians. THE pupils of our school love her lessons very much. I also like music, but
I am really interested in sport. I attend THE tennis club and have trainings three times A week: on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. My dream is to become THE best tennis player in our city and I work hard to make my dream come true.
Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the worthy Minister’s speech, pulling his grey moustache now and then to hide an involuntary smile, and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially by the hand, and said, “My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unlucky ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and I and my family are much indebted to her for her marvellous courage and pluck. The jewels are clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were heatless enough to take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his grave in a fortnight, leading me the devil of a life. As for their being heirlooms, nothing is an heirloom that is not so mentioned in a will or legal document, and the existence of these jewels has been quite unknown. I assure you I have no more claim on them than your buttler, and when Miss Virginia grows up I daresay she will be pleased to have pretty things to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took the furniture and the ghost at a valuation, and anything that belonged to the ghost passed at once into your possession, as, whatever activity Sir Simon may have shown in the corridor at night, in point of law he was really dead, and you acquired his property by purchase.”
Mr. Otis was a good deal disressed at Lord Canterville’s refusal, and begged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer was quite firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter to retain the present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of 1890, the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen’s first drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage, her jewels were the universal theme of admiration. For Virginia received the coronet, which is the reward of all good little American girls, and was married to her boy-lover as he came of age. They were both so charming, and they loved each other so much, that every one was delighted at the match, except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had tried to catch the Duke for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had given no less than three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and, strange to say, Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke personally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use his own words, “was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervating influences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles of Republican simplicity should be forgotten.” His objections, however, were completely overruled, and I believe that when he walked up the aisle of St. George’s, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on his arm, there was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth of England.
The Duke and the Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down to Canterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked over in the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pine-woods. There had been a great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on Sir Simon’s tomb-stone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on it simply the initials of the old gentleman’s name, and the verse from the library window. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses, which she strewed upon the grave, and after they had stood by it for some time they strolled into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There the Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her husband lay at her feet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly he threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand, and said to her, “Virginia, a wife should have no sectrets from her husband.”
“Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you.”
“Yes, you have,” he answered, smiling, “you have never told me what happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost.”
“I have never told any one, Cecil,” said Virginia gravely.
“I know that, but you might tell me.”
“Please don’t ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owe him a great deal. Yes, don’t laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than both.”
The Duke rose and kisse his wife lovingly. “You can have your secret as long as I have your heart,” he murmured.
“You have always had that, Cecil.”
“And you will tell our children some day, won’t you?”
Virginia blushed.