по вот этим правилам "Эссе, предоставляющие решения проблем, обычно пишутся в формальном стиле, и таким образом, Вы должны избегать использования разговорных выражений, кратких форм или личного языка. В первом абзаце мы заявляем проблему. В абзацах основной части мы пишем наши предложения, поддержанные возможными результатами. Мы пишем наши предложения в отдельных абзацах. В заключении мы суммируем наши предложения"

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Ответ:

anna1082002

24.11.2021

1. 1.c 2.e 3.a 4.b 5.d 2 . 1. the 2. - 3. the, the, the 4. the 5.the, - 3 : 1. when my friend and i went outside, it was raining heavily. 2. when peter’s mum came into his room, he was watching the stars through the telescope.3. i was talking on the phone with ann, when the film began. 4 : what kind of text have you just read? a historical story mark the sentences as true (t) or false (f) a) f b) f c) f 3) what do the words “it was a handwritten daily newspaper” mean? b) 4) what is the best title of this text? b) “the history of the newspaper”5 : 1. if i played the guitar, i would become a famous rock star. 2. if the weather had been sunny and warm, we would go to the country. 3. if she rings me up, i will tell her the news.6 : 1. the boy asked his friend, if he would come to his birthday party. 2. bob said to a small boy not play in the street. 3. lucy said to ann that she very glad to meet you”. 4. the tourist asked the policeman how he could get to the picture gallery.

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Ответ:

mrfotuna14

24.11.2021

Сори кратко не могу my aunt will come down in a few minutes, mr nuttel," said a girl of fifteen, showing him into the sitting-room. mr nuttel was a young painter who had recently had a nervous breakdown. the doctors had told him that he should go away for a holiday. they warned him, however, against crowded resorts and recommended a complete rest in a quiet country-place. so here he was, in a little village, with letters of introduction from his sister to some of the people she knew. "some of the people there are quite nice," his sister had said to him. "i advise you to call on mrs sappleton as soon as you arrive. i owe the wonderful holiday i had to her." "do you know many of the people round here? " asked the girl when they were sitting comfortably on the sofa. "no, i'm afraid i don't," answered mr nuttel. "i've never been here before. my sister stayed here four years ago, you know, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of the people here." "then you know nothing about my aunt, do you? " asked the girl. "only her name and address," said the visitor. "her great tragedy happened just three years ago," said the child. "her tragedy? " asked mr nuttel. "you may wonder why we keep that window wide open on an october afternoon," went on the girl, pointing to a large french window. "it's quite warm for this time of year," said mr nuttel. "but has that window anything to do with the tragedy? " "exactly three years ago my aunt's husband and her two young brothers walked out through that window. they went shooting and never came back. when they were crossing the river their boat probably turned over and they were all drowned. their bodies were never found. that was the most horrible part of the tragedy." here the girl stopped. there were tears in her eyes and she drew a handkerchief out of her pocket. "three years have passed, but my poor aunt still thinks that they will come back some day, they and the little brown dog that was drowned with them, and walk in through that window just as they always did. that is why the window is kept open every evening till it's quite dark. poor dear aunt, she can't understand that they've left forever. she's growing worse day by day, so let me give you some advice. don't be surprised at anything she says or does: she will start telling you all over again how they went out — her husband, with his coat over his arm, and her youngest brother, singing 'bertie, why don't you come? ' as she once told me. you know, sometimes, on quiet evenings like this, i almost get a feeling that they will all walk in through that window, and the whole family will be gathered in here again." the young girl finished her sad story. there was a long pause, and mr nuttel was glad when mrs sappleton at last entered the room. "i'm sorry i'm late," she said, "but i hope my niece has entertained you well." "yes, she's been very amusing," said mr nuttel. "d'you mind the open window? " asked mrs sappleton. "my husband and brothers will soon be home from shooting and they always come into the house this way." and she went on speaking gaily about shooting. after what mr nuttel had just heard, he looked worried. "the doctors told me," he said, trying to change the subject, "to have a rest here and to avoid anything that would make me feel nervous." "did they? " said mrs sappleton in a voice which showed that she was not at all interested in what mr nuttel was saying. she never took her eyes off the open window and suddenly cried out: "here they are at last! just in time for tea. how tired they look." mr nuttel looked at the girl and saw that she was looking out through the open window with horror in her eyes. mr nuttel turned round slowly in his seat, looked in the same direction and saw three figures walking across the garden towards the window. they all carried guns and one of them had a coat over his shoulder. a tired brown dog was following them. noiselessly they approached the house, and then a young voice began to sing. "bertie, why don't you come? " mr nuttel seized his hat and ran out of the house like mad. "here we are, my dear," said mrs sappleton's husband, coming in through the window. "we've enjoyed ourselves very much. i wonder what made that gentleman run out so quickly when we came up? who is he? " "a very strange young man, called nuttel. he could only talk about his illness. he didn't say a single interesting thing. i don't understand why he ran out that way without saying good-bye," said his wife. "i think it was the dog," said the niece calmly. "he told me that he was afraid of dogs. once when he was attacked by a pack of dogs somewhere in india, he was so frightened that he started running like mad, and finding himself in a cemetery, climbed down into a newly-dug grave, where he had to spend the night. since then he has always been afraid of dogs." she was very good at inventing stories and did it artistically.

4,6(31 оценок)

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