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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!DOCTYPE plist PUBLIC "-//Apple//DTD PLIST 1.0//EN" "http://www.apple.com/DTDs/PropertyList-1.0.dtd">
<plist version="1.0">
<array>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>himself and Rachel.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>himself and Danny.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>himself, Danny, and Michael.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>himself and Michael.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>D</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Oon't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
When the author says, ÒWe had a beautiful time on that lakeÓ (lines 85-86), he is referring to:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>he finds the speaker's manner intrusive and irritating.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>his eyes hurt from reading in the poorly lit room.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>he feels uncomfortable with the topic of their conversation.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>he is overtired from his work with Michael.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>C</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
Danny avoids looking at the speaker because:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>a happier time.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>mental illness.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>isolation.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>romantic love.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>A</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
Images of the summer at the lake appear in the passage in order to suggest:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>The speaker took Michael to the lake.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>Michael encountered a crook at a carnival.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>Michael was institutionalized.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>Danny has been asked to take over Michael's therapy.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>D</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
What has happened since the last time the speaker spoke to Danny?</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>Michael is uncooperative with his therapists.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>Michael does not behave inappropriately in therapy.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>Michael does not interact with his peers.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>Michael has been wrongly accused of antisocial behavior.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>A</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
Which of the following best expresses Danny's meaning when he says that ÒHe doesn't do anything.Ó (line 47).</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>how long Danny will be allowed to continue working with Michael.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>how long Danny is available to visit with the speaker.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>how long Michael has been in therapy.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>how much longer Danny will be in graduate school.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>A</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
When the speaker asks Danny, ÒHow much time do you have?Ó (line 69), he is referring to:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>Danny looks fatigued, as the speaker had expected.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>The speaker is surprised by how exhausted Danny looks.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>The speaker is amazed that Danny appears well-rested, even though he claims to be tired.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>The speaker is relieved that Danny looks much healthier than he did the last time they met.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>A</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
Which of the following best describes the speaker's impression of Danny when the speaker first sees him?</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>the speaker's repeated physical abuse.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>the fact that the speaker is talking too loudly to hear anything that Danny says.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>the speaker's ignorance of the details regarding Michael's condition.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>the speaker's sarcasm in the previous line.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>D</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
When Danny tells the speaker, ÒI can't talk to you when you're angryÓ (lines 43-44), Danny is responding to:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>old.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>cold.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>rundown.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>dark.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>B</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
The speaker's description indicates that Danny's building is all of the following EXCEPT:</string>
</dict>
<dict>
<key>answerA</key>
<string>Michael has become very solemn.</string>
<key>answerB</key>
<string>Michael is very ill.</string>
<key>answerC</key>
<string>Michael and his girlfriend are deeply committed to one another.</string>
<key>answerD</key>
<string>the speaker is wrong to make fun of Michael's condition.</string>
<key>category</key>
<string>ACT Reading</string>
<key>correctAnswer</key>
<string>B</string>
<key>explanation</key>
<string></string>
<key>question</key>
<string>PROSE FICTION: This passage is excerpted from The Promise(1969) by Chaim Potok.
<br/><br/>
It was cold and an icy wind that blewalong Broadway and up through the narrowside street where Danny lived, a fierce windthat came off the river, which I could not see
</br><b>5</b> for the darkness. The house was small, threestories, red brick, and old, very old. Fiveworn, stone stairs, a badly fitting woodendoor, a tiny overheated foyer withmailboxes, buttons, and nameplates. I
</br><b>10</b> pressed the button over the name Saunders. There was a loud answering buzz. I pushed open the heavy inner door and started up the steep, carpeted, narrow staircase. The door closed with a loud click. It was a little
</br><b>15</b> before eight o'clock. Someone inside the house was frying bacon. The staircase was poorly lighted; the carpet was worn. It was a long climb up to the third floor. Danny was waiting for me in his
</br><b>20</b> doorway. He had on a dark woolen sweater and dark trousers. There was a skullcap on his head. His face was pale and he blinked at me wearily from behind his black shell- rimmed glasses.
</br><b>25</b> "How are you, Danny? How are you really?" "Tired." "You're always tired. Whenever I see you you're tired."
</br><b>30</b> "It's the occupational disease of graduate school." "How is Rachel?" "Rachel is fine." He sat down on the chair in front of
</br><b>35</b> the desk and did not look at me. "Tell me about Michael," I said. He picked up his coffee cup, sipped some coffee, and put it back down on the desk.
</br><b>40</b> "Michael is very sick." "Thanks. Now tell me something about Michael I don't already know." "You're angry," he said. "I can't talk to you when you're angry."
</br><b>45</b> "Tell me about Michael," I said quietly. "What does he do?" "He doesn't do anything. He comes into a therapy session and just sits there. Or he spouts dreams and fantasies that are
</br><b>50</b> absolute lies. He won't cooperate at all." "Are you taking over the therapy?" "Yes. They're willing to try almost anything now. It's very serious with Michael."
</br><b>55</b> I found I could not stop thinking about Michael. There was the lake again and Michael's thin body near the center board of the sailfish and the gusting winds and the clouds scudding smoothly across the
</br><b>60</b> sky. "There have been fist fights. Between Michael and some of the other boys." "Fist fights," I said. I could not
</br><b>65</b> imagine Michael in a fist fight. "He kicked a boy in the groin. During a lunch hour. He pushed him out of the chair and kicked him". "How much time do you have?"
</br><b>70</b> "A month. Two months. It depends on whether there's any kind of progress". "What if there's no progress, Danny?" He glanced down at his desk and
</br><b>75</b> said nothing. "Will he have to be institutionalized?" I said. He did not say anything. "My God," I said. "My God....All
</br><b>80</b> because of a stupid carnival." He looked at me. "Michael was sick long before that carnival. Crooks at carnivals don't make people sick. You have to be sick already to be affected that way.
</br><b>85</b> "We had a beautiful time on that lake. He liked to read clouds. Did I tell you about that? He reads clouds." "You told me." I finished the coffee. "The summer
</br><b>90</b> seems very far away." He was quiet. "It is far away," I said. I put the empty coffee cup on the floor and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I
</br><b>95</b> could not stop thinking about Michael....There was the cove and the smooth shallow water with the tall trees of the shoreline breaking the force of the wind and Michael lying on his back reading the
</br><b>100</b> clouds. There was the cove and the birds high overhead and the clouds white against the deep blue of the sky and the whisper of the wind through the trees, a loud whisper...and I saw Michael standing up in
</br><b>105</b> the roller coaster, his face to the wind...and the sensation of dropping into the night.
</br></br>
When Danny tells the speaker, ÒIt's very serious with MichaelÓ (lines 53-54), Danny means that:</string>
</dict>
</array>
</plist>