TEXT D
　　Mr Duffy raised his eyes from the paper and gazed out of his window on the cheerless evening landscape. The river lay quiet beside the empty distillery and from time to time a light appeared in some house on Lucan Road. What an end! Th e whole narrative of her death revolted him and it revolted him to think that he had ever spoken to her of what he held sacred. The cautious words of a reporter won over to conceal the details of a commonplace vulgar death attacked his stom ach. Not merely had she degraded herself, she had degraded him. His soul’s comp a nion! He thought of the hobbling wretches whom he had seen carrying cans and bot tles to be filled by the barman. Just God, what an end! Evidently she had been u nfit to live, without any strength of purpose, an easy prey to habits, one of th e wrecks on which civilization has been reared. But that she could have sunk so low! Was it possible he had deceived himself so utterly about her? He remembered her outburst of that night and interpreted it in a harsher sense than he had ev er done. He had no difficulty now in approving of the course he had taken.
　　As the light failed and his memory began to wander he thought her hand tou ched his. The shock which had first attacked his stomach was now attacking his n erves. He put on his overcoat and hat quickly and went out. The cold air met him on the threshold; it crept into the sleeves of his coat. When he came to the pu blic house at Chapel Bridge he went in and ordered a hot punch.
　　The proprietor served him obsequiously but did not venture to talk. There were five or six working-men in the shop discussing the value of a gentleman’s e state in County Kildare. They drank at intervals from their huge pint tumblers, and smoked, spitting often on the floor and sometimes dragging the sawdust over their heavy boots. Mr Duffy sat on his stool and gazed at them, without seeing o r hearing them. After a while they went out and he called for another punch. He sat a long time over it. The shop was very quiet. The proprietor sprawled on the counter reading the newspaper and yawning. Now and again a tram was heard swish ing along the lonely road outside.
　　As he sat there, living over his life with her and evoking alternately the two images on which he now conceived her, he realized that she was dead, that s he had ceased to exist, that she had become a memory. He began to feel ill at ea se. He asked himself what else could he have done. He could not have lived with her openly. He had done what seemed to him best. How was he to blame? Now that s he was gone he understood how lonely her life must have been, sitting night afte r night alone in that room. His life would be lonely too until he, too, died, ce ased to exist, became a memory-if anyone remembered him.

　　27. Mr Duffy’s immediate reaction to the report of the woman’s death wa s that of ___.
　　A. disgust
　　B. guilt
　　C. grief
　　D. compassion

　　28. It can be inferred from the passage that the reporter wrote about the woman’s death in a ___ manner.
　　A. detailed
　　B. provocative
　　C. discreet
　　D. sens ational

　　29. We can infer from the last paragraph that Mr Duffy was in a(n) ___ mood.
　　A. angry
　　B. fretful
　　C. irritable
　　D. remorseful

　　30. According to the passage , which of the following statements is NOT t rue?
　　A. Mr Duffy once confided in the woman.
　　B. Mr Duffy felt an intense sense of shame.
　　C. The woman wanted to end the relationship.
　　D. They became estranged probably after a quarrel.