Roland felt his stomach knotting. Having ridden out of the city through the Saint-Denis Gate, he now was nearly home, and the hurt inside was cutting so deep that he thought it would drive him mad. He repeated again and again the pledge he had just made to Nicolette: I am your true troubadour, now and forever. It felt like a knife stabbing into him. I do love her, as I have not loved any other - except Diane. Under his fur-lined mantle he was sweating, despite the bone-deep chill of the January night. Was my pledge to Nicolette a lie? No, not now that Diane has vowed herself to God. He had always believed that a man or a woman could love but one person. For all the years he had loved Diane, he had accepted that as a sacred law of Love. It was the way things should be. But it was not the way they were. Not for him. What if I had known, that day I saw Nicolette at Chinon, that Diane was still alive? I would have wanted Nicolette just as much, but would not have begun this. There would have been no messages, no song in her garden. But I was sure Diane was dead. There was nothing but a memory of a younger time to check my feelings for Nicolette. And then, when I found Diane again, I could not have her. I had lost her forever. So at last I wrote again to Nicolette. But tonight, when Nicolette would have let me make love to her - and how I want her! - I could not go beyond an embrace and a kiss. Not as long as I still love Diane. When he had set out, a full moon had hung low above the huddled rooftops of the university town. Now the silver disk was high overhead, and he could discern the small house he had bought two years ago with money he brought with him from Sicily. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: Roland felt his stomach knotting: Options: - not enough information - after he knew Diane was still alive - before he made a pledge to Nicolette - after he made a pledge to Nicolette
after he made a pledge to Nicolette

The sudden burst of spring produce in the market after a long, monotonous winter of cavolo nero and bright oranges is one of the things that constantly reminds me why I love living and eating in Italy. A wander through the market like any other becomes, in spring time, a new experience. I feel like a fresh arrival, like it's my first time walking through my local market. There are long, twisty fava bean pods, waiting to be podded and munched on with bitey pecorino cheese to tame the bitterness of the raw beans. Thin, long-stemmed asparagus. A lovely array of greens, including radishes with leaves so happy that they become the main ingredient, fluffy-fronded fresh herbs and fresh garlic. Artichokes of many different kinds, but especially the pointed purple ones that are either local, from Tuscany's Maremma, or sometimes from Puglia or Sicily. Rarely the rounded globe artichokes you find spilling out of crates in Rome, or the tiny, delicate Venetian ones, the so-called castraure (though they often aren't the real deal, how you can tell is by the price) that you can find in the shadow of the Rialto. And then there are thick bunches of agretti (salsola soda), looking more like mermaid's hair than a monk's beard, their English namesake. A few years ago, this wasn't such a common sight at the market in Florence. It still isn't, in that you won't get them by the crateful like you do fava beans and artichokes, though they're not particularly difficult to find now. They're just one of those special things that don't last long. Blink and you'll miss them, or come late to the market and they could easily be sold out. It's worth getting up and out of the house a little earlier for these (a note to myself, of course). If you've never tasted agretti before, it's worth seeking out if you're in the right place at the right time and find a bunch or see it on a menu. Frances Mayes likens it to spinach, but notes that it is so much more, "While agretti has the mineral sharpness of spinach, it tastes livelier, full of the energy... According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: Who says agretti is like spinach? Options: - The narrator - The market vendor - not enough information - Frances Mayes
Frances Mayes

Q: Well we're not married (yet), but one time my boyfriend playfully spanked me. Hard. I know he didn't mean to hurt me, but I was mad about it all. Day. Long. I just couldn't get over the fact that he technically hit me! I started to consider things like, "Is he really sorry?" "Will he do it again?" "Should I leave him?" And gave myself reasons like "He didn't mean to!" "He's been apologizing all day!" "He was just playing!" "He meant to have fun, He's sorry!" Yet countered it with one simple statement, "Yeah that's what all abused women say." In the end, I felt the question that should determine whether or not I should leave is: "If I stop talking to him tomorrow and can never see him or speak to him again, will I be okay with that?" and the answer was "No", so obviously I shouldn't leave him. He is very well aware that I was considering leaving him, (I have a very strict 0 tolerance policy of abuse in my relationships, as I was abused terribly growing up,) and he still apologizes to this day, but he has certainly made it a point to never do that again. I definitely trust him, and he actually was being playful, but otherwise that has been the only "real" hitch we have come across. I mean, we argue, but that's only when either of us are mad, and it's usually over small stupid stuff. Like, really stupid stuff. We argued over traffic signs before, LOL. It always leads to me saying the argument is completely retarded and we drop it and just cuddle or something. Really not worth getting worked up about. Edit: Fixed some typos. I'm on my phone so my thumbs can't quite reach LOL. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: How long or wide is the woman's tolerance policy towards abuse? Options: - Just 1 - Greater than 1 - 0, No tolerance at all - not enough information
A: 0, No tolerance at all