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. Where did Roland found out that Diane was still alive? - near Saint-Denis Gate - at Chinon - at a friend's house - not enough information
at Chinon

Macy peeked in, expecting to see Mallie Mae in her favorite chair. Instead, she was standing at a front window, staring at the sky. The matriarch spent most of her time in her bedroom these days. She had everything she needed right there. The room was spacious and beautifully furnished. And Macy was ready to jump at her command. "Did you finish your lunch, Mallie Mae?" The 75-year-old Mallie Mae Mobley loved Macy like the daughter she never had. "Yes, I'm finished. But tell Hadley the ham was dry." "You know that will hurt his feelings." "I don't care. I won't eat dry ham. I've told him over and over, but he keeps sending me dry ham." "Yes, Ma'am. I'll tell him. Macy walked over to pick up the tray. "What do you think about Lilman's fiance? "She a nice young lady, I suppose." "Macy--tell me what you really think." Macy studied Mallie Mae's face to make sure she really wanted to hear her opinion. "I'm not crazy about her." "I think she's awful--a crude money-hungry tramp." Macy tried not to smile. Mallie Mae went on. "If there was any way I could stop this wedding without alienated my son, I would do it in a heartbeat." "Just tell him how you feel." "No, no, no. Then he'll be determined to marry her--and he'll be mad at me. I wanted him to be a surgeon, you know. I had planned it since he was a little boy. He could have been a world-class surgeon." Macy had heard this story nearly every day since she took the job as a personal aide fifteen years earlier, after Mallie Mae had taken a fall and broken her leg. When did Mallie Mae first need a personal aide? - not enough information - After her son's marriage. - After breaking her leg. - When she got married.
After breaking her leg.

*Question*
Let's rewind to January 2013 for a moment. It's a sunny and warm day in Los Angelesa bit of a weather shock to me after 11 years of Seattle's cold and rain. I've been officially on the job in the web department for all of 12 hours. I'm sitting in a conference room at a big wooden table, surrounded by my new coworkers and team members in the Getty's web group. A big monitor is displaying the prototype of the newly designed and almost-built Getty Iris. We're discussing The Iris logo you see at the top of this page, its multiple iterations, and, quite frankly, the pain involved in trying to get it to look right. Wait-wait-wait, let's pause for a moment. My name is Will Lanni. I'm a Web production specialist at the Getty, which is a complex way of saying I'm a developer and designer, which is a nice way of saying that I'm basically a "web monkey." Before I started at the Getty, I worked as a partner in a small web design and development firm for several years. I had some experience working for the GettyI built the Pacific Standard Time at the Getty site, the Pacific Standard Time Festival site, as well as the interactive Getty Impact map. And, at the time of my hiring, I was not only working on the new design and build of The Iris, due to go live in only a month, but also the soon-to-be-launched website for Pacific Standard Time Presents: Modern Architecture in L.A. So I wasn't exactly new to projects at the Getty, even though I was a brand-spanking-new full-time employee. OK. Now that you know who I am, let's get back to that moment. The Iris logo, and the hair-pulling it was causing for all of uswhich is a pretty good representation of the steps that Web projects go through as we move from idea, to execution, to setback, to solution. After the end of the story, Lanni probably: - decides to go into social work - decides to be an actor - continues his job as a web developer - not enough information
**Answer**
continues his job as a web developer