Pirate gold. Coins, rings, ingots. Necklaces of emeralds and opals and sapphires. Chalices, bracelets, daggers inlaid with diamonds and lapis and ivory. Malone rolled over in the soft hotel bed. Not just gold but the things it would buy. A two-story house of brick and wrought iron. Greek columns in front and coaches parked in the drive. Built high on the center of Galveston Island, away from the deadly storms of the Gulf, away from the noise and stink of the port. White servants and negro slaves. Fair-haired women to sit at the piano in his parlor. Dark-skinned women to open their legs to him in the secrecy of the night... He sat up in a sweat. I will think no evil thoughts, he told himself. Outside, the sun rose over New Orleans. Horse-drawn carts creaked and rattled through the streets, and chickens complained about the light. The smell of the Mississippi, damp and sexual, floated through the open window. Malone got up and put a robe on over his nightshirt, despite the heat. He turned up the gas lamp over the desk, took out pen, ink and paper, and began to write. 'My dearest Becky...' * He smelled the French Market before he saw it, a mixture of decayed fruit, coffee, and leather. He crossed Decatur Street to avoid a side of beef hung over the sidewalk, swarming with flies. Voices shouted in a dozen different languages. All manner of decrepit wooden carts stood on the street, their contents passed from hand to hand until they disappeared under the yellow canvas awnings of the market. Beyond the levee Malone could see the tops of the masts of the tall ships that moved toward the Governor Nicholl's Street Wharf. Who is Becky? - Malone's wife. - not enough information - Malone's sister. - Malone's niece.
not enough information

Facebook has a long track record and sordid history of abusing their users' trust and privacy, including the most recent and egregious cases currently making headlines with Cambridge Analytica as well as election meddling in the US and Britain. As if that wasn't enough, it then came to light that they have also been tracking and storing users' phone call and text message data, including "who contacted whom, what time, and how long the conversation was." This is nothing new, as we can see from this 2012 "study" in which they deliberately manipulated news feeds to influence users' emotional state. And again with their settlement with the FCC back in 2011 (that they likely violated with their recent offenses) over deceiving consumers by telling them their information was private, but then repeatedly sharing it and making it public. And then there's The Ugly Memo, in which a FB exec justifies growth at any cost in the name of connecting people, even if that results literally in people dying: We talk about the good and the bad of our work often. I want to talk about the ugly. We connect people. That can be bad if they make it negative. Maybe it costs a life by exposing someone to bullies. Maybe someone dies in a terrorist attack coordinated on our tools. And still we connect people. The ugly truth is that we believe in connecting people so deeply that anything that allows us to connect more people more often is *de facto* good. And up until this most recent Cambridge Analytica scandal, Facebook was negotiating with various healthcare organizations to share patients' health data with FB so they could match it up to your social circle to allegedly provide better health care. Um yeah right. Each time this stuff happens, they issue an apology (or a justification for their behavior) and promise they will take steps to better inform users and protect their privacy, but it's clear that this is just lip service at this point. what is probably true about facebook? - Facebook always violates users privacy policies - Facebook preserves users privacy - Facebook violates users privacy more often - not enough information
Facebook violates users privacy more often

(Q).
"What was your worst makeup disaster?" Do fingernails count? I hope so, because this is a good one: I was 21 years old. I worked for a major commercial airline. A friend of mine and I decided to go to Puerto Rico for a long weekend. It was our first trip to Puerto Rico. The hotel at which we stayed had a lovely (classy/expensive) restaurant serving continental fare. So, we decided to have our first dinner there. We dressed to the nines. Our hair and makeup were perfect. I had fake fingernails (not acrylic - those were fairly new back then. I had the type one glues on). Those fingernails were long, and painted a very bright - and obvious - red. When the waiter came to take our drink order, we both ordered glasses of wine. The waiter brought the wine, set it down on the table, and waited to take our meal orders. I smoked back then, and at the time, smoking was still allowed in restaurants. In a 21-year-old attempt to look classy and sophisticated, at that moment I took out a cigarette, put it between my lips, picked up my lighter, and lit my cigarette - or so I thought. Unfortunately, my long, red, fake thumbnail got in the way of the flame, and it caught on fire. The waiter's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. He froze in place. I was horrified. The flame was literally shooting up from my nail! And smoke; the nail was plastic! Quickly scanning the table for the closest thing with which I could extinguish the flame, I spied my glass of wine. As nonchalantly as possible, I stuck my thumb in the glass. There was a sizzle as the flaming nail hit the wine. When I withdrew my thumb from the glass, the nail was melted, black, and curled under. Ever the professional, the waiter regained his composure and proceeded to take our orders without missing a beat - but I'm sure I was the talk of the kitchen for the rest of the evening. So much for my attempt at appearing "classy" and "sophisticated". What does the waiter think about the 21-year-old girl? - She is a non-smoker - She is not a customer he is willing to serve - not enough information - She is a conceited person
(A).
She is a conceited person