Question: Diane's heart felt leaden as she prepared to leave. Each face she looked at, she knew she was seeing for the last time. As if she were dying and they all were going to live on. Oh, why must I leave? Now, when all of you are about to put on the martyr's crown, how can you cast me out? I want to die with you. I do not want to go on, stumbling through this world alone. For years these people had been her only family. When she was a child, her faith was preached and practiced openly all over the south of France. The crusade was already twenty years old then, but the perfecti still taught crowds of people in the streets of great cities like Toulouse and Beziers, still won converts away from the Church of Rome. From the lords and ladies in their castles to the peasants on the mountainsides, over half the people were Cathars. Now this year, one thousand two hundred forty-four, might come to be remembered as the year Catharism in France disappeared. From now on there would be nothing but a remnant in hiding, having to sneak about. No, she didn't want to live that way. She longed to throw herself down and beg Bishop Bertran once again to let her stay. But duty pressed down upon her like a mail shirt. It was burdensome, but it protected her from error. She quietly made ready. Before long, Diane and Roland were standing on the northeast wall amid a group of perfecti. From a family that had taken refuge on Mont Segur had come a red and green costume for Diane, the tunic and hose of a well-to-do boy, an equerry. They had cut her hair short and tucked it under a cap topped with a long partridge feather. They had sewn the red cross back on Roland's black surcoat, and had made one for Diane's tunic from a gentlewoman's crimson scarf. A rope to form a sling was tied around her waist and another around her knees. Roland was similarly tied. Where Diane and Roland where standing before she left? - not enough information - The Northeast wall - Toulouse city - Near the church of Rome
Answer: The Northeast wall

Question: I woke at dawn when Digger climbed over me to get out of bed, and I woke again an hour later when Pa called, "Everyone up who wants breakfast!" Across the room, Little Bit was dressing in a T-shirt and jeans that had been mine a year before. Ma had put a stack of clean clothes at the foot of the bed for me. I dressed without caring what I put on. The only important items were my cowboy boots and my Roy Rogers belt with two holsters for cap guns, even though I only had one cap gun left, and its trigger was broken. When I used the toilet, I sat on the front edge of the seat, watching the water beneath me, and scooted off as soon as I was done. I had seen a cartoon in a book at Grandpa Abner's that showed a fish leaping out of a toilet bowl and a woman staring at it with big eyes. I thought that was funny and I knew it was impossible, but I didn't think there was any reason to take chances. Ma called, "Little Bit has to use the bathroom." I yelled, "I'm almost done." Ma called, "Are you off the toilet?" I yelled, "Yes!" Ma opened the door and brought Little Bit in. Squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I said, "I wasn't done yet." Ma said, "Your father's making breakfast in the restaurant." That meant we should hurry, so I slid the brush over my teeth while Little Bit sat next to the sink, and then I ran out of the house. Stepping into the sunlight was stepping into Florida. I didn't smell oranges -- Ma had explained that oranges grew further south -- but I smelled a humid pinelands that was not like the New Orleans suburb I had known. When did the narrator first wake up? - When Ma put clean clothes at the foot of the bed. - When Pa called everyone for breakfast. - When Digger climbed over to get out of bed. - not enough information
Answer: When Digger climbed over to get out of bed.

Question: Is not necessarily worth two of anything, anywhere else. But it can certainly be a heck of a lot of fun. During my days as an inmate in Bridges House at the University of New Brunswick, I shared this space with about 99 other testosterone-addled 'young adults' whose charming tendency to get completely out of hand was barely held in check by the rod of authority of the Don and Resident Fellow. This is not to say that these two worthies weren't good at their jobs; more accurately, their task was more akin to herding cats -- fairly obtuse, barely socialized cats. Given the state of controlled chaos that existed, it wasn't unusual for little conflicts to arise from time to time. Being rather physically small and odd, I came in for a certain amount of abuse from someone called Scut, a large and obnoxious Newfie (hmmm, that's like saying that water is wet). I can't remember what it was he did to me, but it was serious enough that I decided to get my own back. It's been said that revenge is a dish best enjoyed cold. I think revenge is a dish best enjoyed in secret with no chance of counter-revenge to spoil the occasion. And so it was that I laid my plans against Scut. The occasion and place were set. My means of entry was secured. Now I needed material. For me, the only good fish is a live one. Even though I hale from NB, I really don't like free-swimming seafood. Considering the unimaginative cuisine of my youth, it's surprising that I eat anything at all. So with dead, smelly fish in mind, I persuaded my friend Shan to pick one up when he was down at the Saturday Farmer's Market. He returned with a four-pound shad, frozen solid. Shad has even more bones than other fish and you'll never see it featured on any cooking show (except maybe Iron Chef, where the disgusting and unusual seems to be standard). It took me all day to thaw out the fish in the lounge sink?#8364;?an activity which elicited howls of complaint from the guys trying to watch TV. who is this person - the author's son - the author - the authors wife - not enough information
Answer:
the author