Late on the next Sunday afternoon Gifford had gone for a country walk which he had arranged to bring him round in time for the evening service at the little village church of Wynford standing just outside the park boundary. His way took him by well-remembered field-paths which, although towards the end of his walk darkness had set in, he had no difficulty in tracing. The last field he crossed brought him to a by-road joining the highway which ran through Wynford, the junction being about a quarter of a mile from the church. As he neared the stile which admitted to the road he saw, on the other side of the hedge and showing just above it, the head of a man. At the sound of his footsteps the man quickly turned, and, as for a moment the fitful moonlight caught his face, Gifford was sure he recognized Gervase Henshaw. But he took no notice and kept on his way to the stile, which he crossed and gained the road. As he did so he glanced back. A horse and trap was waiting there with Henshaw in it. He was now bending down, probably with the object of concealing his identity, and had moved on a few paces farther down the road.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: Did Gifford need help to get to the church?

Allan sat down at his desk and pulled the chair in close. Opening a side drawer, he took out a piece of paper and his inkpot. After filling his pen, Allan looked at his paper in the orange glow from the lantern set back in the desk's right-hand corner. His pen cast a forbidding line of shadow slanting across the page, echoing the inky darkness crouching in the edges of the lantern's struggling glow. The only other illumination came from a lurid moonlight filtered through thin branches and clouds, casting its bone-pale glow onto the pine floorboards. Allan unfolded another page, this one crowded with ranks of letters in tight formation from left to right. The lines of letters stepped into their divisions, in the shape of a story's outline: the loose, dry skeleton of a tale lay exposed beneath their feet, awaiting tendons, muscle and blushing skin. Allan reviewed the troops, all prepared to disembark, their task to form the tale of a young man returning home from Life Abroad to find his childhood friend a bride to-be, thus upsetting the apple cart of his life's plan, clarified of course by his very time away from her he loved best. Although the concept was a simple one, Allan thought it had potential. Besides, the public liked a good, simple romance. Perhaps this will be more saleable, he thought and began to write. They gazed at each other, lost in the rapture of love based so deeply within their hearts that they had never seen it before. "What about Roger?" she asked, knowing that the answer no longer mattered.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: What phrases characterize the letters as a group of military men?

Porky is looking all over the big city for a hotel room , but due to a convention there are no vacancies . Porky takes the only available vacancy at one hotel , but will have to share with Daffy Duck , who is a very loud , obnoxious and annoying sort . Daffy introduces his invisible kangaroo friend '' Hymie '' , but Porky wo n't believe that . Daffy spends the rest of the night annoying Porky : pestering him with questions , shaking the bed , spilling water from a glass , hogging the blanket and finally literally sending the both of them flying off the bed when Daffy kicks , and startles , Porky with his literally frozen feet . Fed up with his antics , Porky stuffs Daffy in a pillow case and drops him out of the window . As Porky goes back to bed , Daffy returns bandaged , but shakes them off and prepares to get revenge . Daffy tricks the half-asleep pig into stepping out of a window thinking he 's boarding a train . Daffy hides the window saying it 's '' too gruesome '' to watch . Suddenly he hears train noises , and behind the shade , sees the still-drowsy Porky pulling away on an actual train and waving at Daffy . Daffy finds this silly . Then he bounces all around the room , '' Hoo-Hoo ! '' - ing wildly .
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: Why did Daffy bounce around the room saying "hoo hoo !"?

For much of the world, the Algarve is synonymous with Portugal, yet the Portuguese will tell you the exact opposite: the region has little in common with the rest of the country. The southern stretch of coast is more reminiscent of a North African landscape than a European one. It has no cosmopolitan cities, like Lisbon and Porto, which are farther north. Most of Portugal is known for quaint towns, medieval castles, and grand palaces. The Algarve is more recognizable for impenetrable blocks of tourist apartments, hotels, and meticulously manicured golf courses. And beaches. Think Algarve and the mind pictures long, glorious stretches of golden sands, secluded coves framed by odd ochre-colored rock formations, and deep green waters. With about 160 km (100 miles) of coastline, Portugal's southern province is one of Europe's premier beach destinations. The occasionally chilly ocean is the Atlantic, but the Algarve has a sultry Mediterranean feel. Its consistent climate is the best in Portugal, and one of the kindest in the world: more than 250 days of sunshine a yearmore than almost any other international resort area. The moderating effect of the Gulf Stream produces a fresh springtime breeze throughout winter, and in late January and February, white almond blossoms blanket the fields. In summer the heat is intense but rarely unbearable, and regardless, beautiful beaches and innumerable pools are always just a dive away. Magnificent year-round weather has made the Algarve a huge destination for sporting vacations. Superb golf facilities aboundseveral with tees dramatically clinging to cliffs and fairways just skirting the edge of the oceanand horseback riding, tennis, big-game fishing, sailing, and windsurfing are immensely popular. Sports, beaches and hospitable weathernot to mention easily organized package vacationsare surely the reasons the Algarve receives as many visitors as the rest of Portugal in its entirety. But it's not just international tourists that descend on the Algarve; many Portuguese from Lisbon and elsewhere in the north have holiday homes and spend their summer vacations here. The coast is neatly divided into the rugged Barlavento to the west and the flat beauty of Sotavento to the east. West is where you'll find the famous orange cliffs and surreal eroded rock stacks.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer:
How many areas is the country divided into?