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报报考高级农艺师在什么情况下免考英语
报报考高级农艺师在什么情况下免考英语
09-05-07 &匿名提问 发布
　　外语能力是衡量专业技术人员素质和专业水平的一个重要方面，特别是经济全球化和我国对外开放不断发展的新形势，对专业技术人员的外语能力提出了更高的要求。在中央批准的各专业技术职务试行条例中，对不同系列、不同职务层次专业技术人员的外语能力都做出了规定。凡依据相应专业技术职务条例受聘担任相应专业技术职务的人员，均应按照《关于专业技术人员职称外语等级统一考试的通知》（人发[1998]54号）规定的范围，报名参加相应语种、级别的外语水平测试。人事部组织的全国统一标准的职称外语考试，采取统一大纲、闭卷笔试的形式进行。考试设英语、日语、俄语、德语、法语和西班牙语6个语种，每个语种分为A、B、C三个等级。其中，英语划分为综合、理工、卫生3个专业类别。其它语种不分专业类别。考试主要测试专业技术人员阅读理解外文专业基础文献的能力。报考人员可根据自己所从事的专业工作，任选一个语种及有关类别参加考试。　　全国专业技术人员职称英语等级考试是由国家人事部组织实施的一项国家级外语考试。本考试遵循“严格要求、实事求是、区别对待、逐步提高”的原则，根据英语在不同专业领域活动中的应用特点，结合专业技术人员掌握和使用英语的实际情况，对申报不同级别专业技术职务的人员的英语水平提出了不同的要求。
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没有英语和计算机等级证书，没有发表论文。3位黄陂农民凭实力和能力拿到了高级职称。　　昨日，经过最后的专家评审，他们成为我市首批获得职称的农民。 　　获高级农艺师的赵发刚是种芦笋的高手，种植面积从50亩扩大到1800亩，形成了当地一大产业；获高级畜牧师的程华英，2001年开始从事肉鸡养殖管理，探索出了养殖、林果等多种生态立体循环发展的模式；获高级工程师的任正值，2001年承包700多亩水塘搞名特水产养殖，现在达到6万多亩，一年创税21万元，其公司也成为华农水产学院的教学实习基地。　　答辩中，尽管3位农民缺少理论表达，但14位评委都说：他们是在给我们上课，他们的成果不比一些论文的价值低。　　谈起防疫问题，畜牧养殖大户程华英对答如流。“真是个实干的全才”，14位专家以全票通过了她的评审。　　赵发刚说，“有了高级农艺师这个职称，再去谈生意，底气会更足。”　　市人事局表示，正在准备在全市农村广泛开展实用人才评价系列举措，让更多的土专家有自己的名分。
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After helping her with the dishes, Paul nodded toward the back door,“Would you like to join me for a stroll on the beach?” he asked. “It looks like a nice night.”“Isn’t it getting cold?”“I’m sure it is, but I have the feeling it’ll he the last chance we get for a couple of days.”Adrienne glanced out the window. She should stay and finish cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, but that could wait, right?“Sure,” she agreed, “just let me get a jacket.”Adrienne’s room was located off the kitchen, in a room that Jean had added on a dozen years ago. It was larger than the other rooms in the house and had a bathroom that had been designed around a large Jacuzzi bathtub. Jean took baths regularly, and whenever Adrienne had called her when her spirits were low, it was always the remedy that Jean recommended to make herself feel better. “What you need is a long, hot, relaxing bath,” she’d say, oblivious to the fact that there were three kids in the house who mo-nopolized the bathrooms and that Adrienne’s schedule didn’t allow for much free time.From the closet, Adrienne retrieved her jacket, then grabbed her scarf. Wrapping it around her neck, she glanced at the clock and was amazed at how quickly the hours had seemed to pass. By the time she’d returned to the kitchen, Paul was waiting for her with his coat on.“You ready?” he asked.She folded up the collar on her jacket. “Let’s go. But I have to warn you, I’m not a real big fan of cold weather. My southern blood’s a little thin.”“We won’t be out long. I promise.”He smiled as they stepped outside, and Adrienne flipped the light switch that illuminated the steps. Walking side by side, they headed over the low dune, toward the compact sand near the water’s edge.There was an exotic b the air was crisp and fresh, and the flavor of salt hung in the mist. On the horizon, lightning was flickering in steady rhythm, making the clouds blink. As she glanced in that direction, she noticed that Paul was watching the sky as well. His eyes, she thought, seemed to register everything.“Have you ever seen that before? Lightning like that?” he asked.“Not in the winter. In the summer, it happens every now and then.”“It’s from the fronts coming together. I saw it start up when we were having dinner, and it makes me think this storm is going to be bigger than they’re predicting.”“I hope you’re wrong.”“I might be.”“But you doubt it.”He shrugged. “Let’s just say had I known it was coming, I would have tried to reschedule.”“Why?”“I’m not a big fan of storms anymore. Do you remember Hurricane Hazel? In 1954?”“Sure, but I was kind of young then, I was more excited than scared when we lost power at the house. And Rocky Mount wasn’t hit that hard, or at least our neighborhood wasn’t.”“You’re lucky. I was twenty-one at the time and I was at Duke. When we heard it was coming, a few of the guys on the cross-country team thought it would be a good bonding experience if we went down to Wrightsville Beach to have a hurricane party. I didn’t want to go, but since I was the captain, they sort of guilted me into it.”“Isn’t that where it came ashore?”“Not exactly, but it was close enough. By the time we got there, most of the people had evacuated the island, but we were young and stupid and made our way over anyway. At first, it was kind of fun. We kept taking turns trying to lean into the wind and keep our balance, thinking the whole thing was great and wondering why everyone had been making such a big deal about it. After a few hours, though, the wind was too strong for games and the rain was coming down in sheets, so we decided to head back to Durham. But we couldn’t get off the island. They’d closed the bridges once the wind topped fifty miles an hour, and we were stuck. And the storm kept getting worse. By two A.M., it was like a war zone. Trees were toppling over, roofs were tearing off, and everywhere you looked, something that could kill us was flying past the windows of the car. And it was louder than you could imagine. Rain was just pounding the car and that was when the storm surge hit, It was high tide and a full moon to boot, and the biggest waves I’d ever seen were coming in, one right after the next. Luckily, we were far enough from the beach, but we watched four homes wash away that night. And then, when we didn’t think it could get any worse, power lines started snapping. We watched the transformers explode one right after the next, and one of the lines landed near the car. It whipped in the wind the rest of the night. It was so close we could see the sparks, and there were times when it nearly hit the car. Other than praying, I don’t think any of us said a sin-gle word to each other the rest of the night. It was the dumbest thing I ever did.”Adrienne hadn’t taken her eyes from him as he spoke.“You’re lucky you lived.”“I know.”On the beach, the violence of the waves had caused foam to form that looked like soap bubbles in a child’s bath.“I’ve never told that story before,” Paul finally added. “To anyone, I mean.”“Why not?”“Because it wasn’t . . . me, somehow. I’d never done any-thing risky like that before, and I never did anything like it afterward. It’s almost like it happened to someone else. You’d have to know me to understand. I was the kind of guy who wouldn’t go out on Friday nights so that I wouldn’t fall behind in my studies.”She laughed. “I doubt that.”“It’s true. I didn’t.”As they walked the hard-packed sand, Adrienne glanced at the homes behind the dunes. No other lights were on, and in the shadows, Rodanthe struck her as a ghost town.“Do you mind if I tell you something?” she asked. “I mean, I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”“I won’t.”They took a few steps as Adrienne wrestled with her words.“Well . . . it’s just that when you talk about yourself, it’s almost like you’re talking about someone else. You say you used to work too much, but people like that don’t sell their practice to head off to Ecuador. You say you didn’t do crazy things, but then you tell me a story in which you did. I’m just trying to figure it out.”Paul hesitated, He didn’t have to explain himself, not to her, not to anyone, but as he walked on under the flicker-ing sky on a cold January evening, he suddenly realized that he wanted her to know him—really know him, in all his contradictions.“You’re right,” he began, “because I am talking about two people. I used to be Paul Flanner the hard-driving kid who grew up to be a surgeon. The guy who worked all the time. Or Paul Flanner the husband and father with the big house in Raleigh. But these days, I’m not any of those things. Right now, I’m just trying to figure out who Paul Flanner really is, and to be honest, I’m beginning to won-der if I’ll ever find the answer.”“I think everyone feels that way sometimes. But not many people would be inspired to move to Ecuador as a result.”“Is that why you think I’m going?”They walked in silence for a few steps before Adrienne looked at him. “No,” she said, “my guess is that you’re going so you can get to know your son.”Adrienne saw the surprise on his face.“It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she said. “You hardly mentioned him all night. But if you think it’ll help, then I’m glad you’re going.”He smiled. “Well, you’re the first. Even Mark wasn’t too thrilled when I let him know.”“He’ll get over it.”“You think so?”“I hope so. That’s what I tell myself when I’m having trouble with my kids.”Paul gave a short laugh and motioned over his shoulder. “You want to head back?” he asked.“I was hoping you’d say that. My ears are getting cold.”They circled back, following their own footprints in the sand. Though the moon wasn’t visible, the clouds above were shining silver. In the distance, they heard the first rumbling of thunder.“What was your ex-husband like?”“Jack?” She hesitated, wondering whether to try to change the subject, then decided it didn’t matter. Who was he going to tell? “Unlike you,” she finally said, “Jack thinks he found himself already. It just happened to be with some-one else while we were married.”“I’m sorry.”“So am I. Or I was, anyway. Now it’s just one of those things. I try not to think about it.”Paul remembered the tears he’d seen earlier. “Does that work?”“No, but I keep trying. I mean, what else can I do?”“You could always go to Ecuador.”She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice? I could come home and say something like ‘Sorry, kids, you’re on your own. Mom’s taking off for a while.” She shook her head. “No, for the time being, I’m kind of stuck. At least until they’re all in college. Right now, they need as much stability as they can get.”“Sounds like you’re a good mother.”“I try. My kids don’t always think so, though.”“Look at it this way—when they have their own kids, you can get your revenge.”“Oh, I plan on it. I’ve already been practicing. How about some potato chips before dinner? No, of course you don’t have to clean your room. Sure you can stay up late. . .Paul smiled again, thinking how much he was enjoying the conversation. Enjoying her. In the silver light of the approaching storm, she looked beautiful, and he wondered how her husband could have left her.They made their way back to the house slowly, both of them lost in thought, taking in the sounds and sights, nei-ther feeling the need to speak.There was comfort in that, Adrienne thought. Too many people seemed to believe that silence was a void that needed to be filled, even if nothing important was said. She’d experienced enough of that at the endless circuit of cocktail parties that she’d once attended with Jack. Her fa-vorite moments then had been when she’d been able to slip away unobserved and spend a few minutes on a secluded porch. Sometimes there would be someone else out there, someone she didn’t know, but when they saw each other, each would nod, as if making a secret pact. No questions, no small talk … agreed.Here, on the beach, the feeling returned. The night felt refreshing, the breeze lifting her hair and burnishing her skin. Shadows spread out before her on the sand, moving and shifting, forming into almost recognizable images, then vanishing from sight. The ocean was a swirl of liquid coal. Paul, she knew, was absorbing all
he also seemed to realize that talking now would somehow ruin it all.They walked on in companionable silence, Adrienne more certain with every step that she wanted to spend more time with him. But that wasn’t so odd, was it? He was lonely and so was she, solitary travelers enjoying a deserted stretch of sand in an oceanside village called Rodanthe.When they reached the house, they stepped inside the kitchen and slipped off their jackets. Adrienne hung hers on the coat-rack beside the door
Paul hung his beside it.Adrienne brought her hands together and blew through them, seeing Paul look toward the clock, then around the kitchen, as if wondering whether he should call it a night.“How about something warm to drink?” she offered quickly. “I can brew a fresh pot of decal.”“Do you have any tea?” he asked.“I think I saw some earlier. Let me check.”She crossed the kitchen, opened the cupboard near the sink, then moved assorted goods to the side, liking the fact that they’d have a hit more time together. A box of Earl Grey was on the second shelf, and when she turned around to show it to him, Paul nodded with a smile. She moved around him to get the kettle, then added water, conscious of how close they were standing to each other. When it whistled, she poured two cups and they went to the sitting room.They took their places in the rockers again, though the room had changed now that the sun had dropped. If possi-ble, it seemed quieter, more intimate in the darkness.As they drank their tea, they talked for another hour about this and that, the easy conversation of casual friends. In time, though, as the evening was winding down, Adri-enne found herself confiding in him about her father and the fears she had for the future.Paul had heard simi as a doctor, he encountered such stories regularly. But until that moment, they’d been just that: stories, His parents were gone, and Martha’s parents were alive and well and living in F but he could tell by Adrienne’s expression that her dilemma was something he was glad he wouldn’t have to face.“Is there something I can do?” he offered. “I know a lot of specialists who could review his chart and see if there’s a way to help him.”“Thank you for the offer, but no, I’ve done all that. The last stroke really set him hack. Even if there was something that might help a little, I don’t think there’s any chance that he could function without round-the-clock care.”“What are you going to do?”“I don’t know. I’m hoping Jack will change his mind about coming up with additional financial support for my dad, and he might. He and my father were pretty close for a while. But if not, I guess I’ll look for a full-time position so I can pay for it.”“Can’t the state do anything?”As soon as he said the words, he knew what her answer would he.“He might be eligible for assistance, but the good places have long waiting lists, and most of them are a couple of hours away, so I wouldn’t be able to see him regularly. And the not-so-good places? I couldn’t do that to him.”She paused, her thoughts flashing between the past and present. “When he retired,” she finally said, “they had a small party at the plant for him, and I remember thinking that he was going to miss going in every day. He’d started working there when he was fifteen, and in all the years he spent with them, he took only two sick days. I figured it out once—if you added up all the hours he spent working there, it would be fifteen years of his life, but when I asked him about it, he said he wasn’t going to miss it at all. That he had big plans now that he was finished.”Adrienne’s expression softened. “What he meant was that he was planning to do the things he wanted instead of the things he had to do, Spending time with me, with the grandkids, with his books, or with friends. He deserved a few easy years after all he’d been through, and then . .She trailed off before meeting Paul’s eyes. “You would like him if you met him. Even now.”“I’m sure I would. But would he like me?”Adrienne smiled. “My dad likes everyone. Before his strokes, there was nothing more enjoyable to him than lis-tening to people talk and learning what they were all about. He was endlessly patient, and because of that, peo-ple always opened up to him. Even strangers. They would tell him things they wouldn’t tell anyone else because they knew he could be trusted.” She hesitated. “You want to know what I remember most, though?”Paul raised his eyebrows slightly.“It was something he used to say to me, ever since I was a little girl. No matter how good or bad I’d done in any-thing, no matter if I was happy or sad, my dad would always give me a hug and tell me, ‘I’m proud of you.”She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what it is about those words, but they always moved me. I must have heard them a million times, but every time he said them, they left me with the feeling that he’d love me no matter what. It’s funny, too, because as I got older, I used to joke with him about it. But even then, when I was getting ready to leave, he’d say it anyway, and I’d still get all mushy in-side.”Paul smiled. “He sounds like a remarkable man.”“He is,” she said, and sat up straighter in her chair. “And because of that, I’ll work it out so he won’t have to leave. It’s the best place in the world for him. It’s close to home, and not only is the care exceptional, but they treat him like a person there, not just a patient. He deserves a place like that, and it’s the least I can do.”“He’s lucky he has you as a daughter to watch out for him.”“I’m lucky, too.” As she stared toward the wall, her eyes seemed to lose their focus. Then she shook her head, sud-denly realizing what she’d been saying. “But listen to me going on and on. I’m sorry.”“No reason to be sorry. I’m glad you did.”With a smile, she leaned forward slightly. “What do you miss the most about being married?”“I take it we’re changing the subject.”“I figured it was your turn to share.”“It’s the least I could do?”She shrugged. “Something along those lines. Now that I’ve spilled my guts, it’s your turn.”Paul gave a mock sigh and gazed up at the ceiling. “Okay, what I miss.” He brought his hands together. “I guess it’s knowing that someone is waiting for me when I get home from work. Usually, I wouldn’t be home until late, and sometimes Martha would already be in bed. But the knowledge that she was there seemed natural and re-assuring, like the way things should be. How about you?”Adrienne set her teacup on the table between them.“The usual things. Someone to talk to, to share meals with, those quick morning kisses before either of us had brushed our teeth, But to be honest, with the kids, I’m more worried about what they’re missing than what I am right now. I miss having Jack around, for their sake. I think little kids need a mom more than they need a dad, but as teenagers, they need their dads. Especially girls. I don’t want my daughter thinking that men are jerks who walk out on their family, but how am I going to teach her that if her own father did it?”“I don’t know.”Adrienne shook her head. “Do men think aboutthose things ?’’“The good ones do. Like in everything else.”“How long were you married?”“Thirty years. You?”“Eighteen.”“Between the two of us, you’d think we’d have figured it out, huh?”“What? The key to happily ever after? I don’t think there is one anymore.”“No, I guess you’re right.”From the hallway, they heard the grandfather clock be-ginning to chime. When it stopped, Paul rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work out the soreness from the drive. “I think I’m ready to turn in. Early day tomorrow.”“I know,” she agreed, “I was just thinking the same thing.”But they didn’t get up right away. Instead, they sat to-gether for a few more minutes with the same silence they’d shared on the beach. Occasionally, he glanced toward her, but he would turn away before she caught him.With a sigh, Adrienne got up from her chair and pointed toward his cup. “I can bring that into the kitchen. I’m going that way.”He smiled as he handed it over. “I had a good time tonight.”“So did I.”A moment later, Adrienne watched as Paul headed up the stairs before she turned away and began closing up the Inn.In her room, she slipped out of her clothes and opened her suitcase, looking for a pair of pajamas. As she did, she caught the reflection of herself in the mirror. Not too bad, but let’s be honest here—she looked her age. Paul, she thought, had been sweet when he’d said she’d needed nothing done.It had been a long time since someone had made her feel attractive. She put on a pair of pajamas and crawled into bed, Jean had a stack of magazines on the stand, and she browsed the articles for a few minutes before turning out the light. In the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about the evening she’d just spent. The conversations replayed e she could see the way the corners of his mouth formed into a crooked smile whenever she’d said some-thing he found humorous. For an hour, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, growing frustrated, and completely unaware of the fact that in the room upstairs, Paul Flanner was doing exactly the same thing. 54Despite closing the shutters and drapes to keep out the morning light, Paul woke with Friday’s dawn, and he spent ten minutes stretching the ache from his body.Swinging open the shutters, he took in the morning. There was a deep haze over the water, and the skies were gunmetal gray. Cumulous clouds raced along, rolling paral-lel with the shore. The storm, he thought, would be here before nightfall, more likely by midafternoon.He sat on the edge of the bed as he slipped into his run-ning gear, then added a windbreaker over the top. From the drawer, he removed an extra pair of socks and slipped them on his hands. Then, after padding down the stairs, he looked around. Adrienne wasn’t up, and he felt a short stab of disappointment at not seeing her, then suddenly won-dered why it mattered. He unlocked the door, and a minute later he was trudging along, letting his body warm up be-fore he moved into a steadier pace.From her bedroom, Adrienne heard him descend the creaking steps. Sitting up, she pushed off the covers and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers, wishing she’d at least had some coffee ready for Paul when he awoke. She wasn’t sure he would have wanted any before his run, but she could at least have made the offer.Outside, Paul’s muscles and joints were beginning to loosen and he quickened his stride, It wasn’t anywhere near the pace he’d run in his twenties or thirties, but it was steady and refreshing.Running had never been simply exercise for him. He’d reached the point where running wasn’ it seemed to take no more energy to jog five miles than it did to read the paper. Instead, he viewed it as a form of medi-tation, one of the few times he could be alone.It was a wonderful morning to run. Though it had rained during the night and he could see drops on the windshields of cars, the shower must have passed through the area quickly, because most of the roads had already dried. Ten-drils of mist lingered in the dawn and moved in ghostly procession from one small home to the next. He would have liked to run on the beach since he didn’t often have that opportunity, but he decided to use his run to find the home of Robert Torrelson instead. He ran along the high-way, passing through downtown, then turned at the first corner, his eyes taking in the scene.In his estimation, Rodanthe was exactly what it ap-peared to he: an old fishing village riding the water’s edge, a place where modern life had been slow in coming. Every home was made of wood, and though some were in better repair than others, with small, well-tended yards and a thin patch of dirt where bulbs would blossom in the spring, he could see evidence of the harshness of coastal life every-where he looked. Even homes that were no more than a dozen years old were decaying. Fences and mailboxes had small holes eaten away by the weather, paint had peeled, tin roofs were streaked with long, wide rows of rust. Scat-tered in the front yards were various items of everyday life in this part of the world: skiffs and broken boat engines, fishing nets used as decoration, ropes and chains used to keep strangers at bay.Some homes were no more than shacks, and the walls seemed precariously balanced, as if the next strong wind might topple them over. In some cases, the front porches were sagging and had been propped up by an assortment of utilitarian items to keep them from giving way completely: concrete bloc two-by-fours that pro-truded from below like short chopsticks.But there was activity here, even in the dawn, even in those homes that looked abandoned. As he ran, he saw smoke billowing from chimneys and watched men and women covering windows with plywood. The sound of hammering had begun to fill the air.He turned at the next block, checked the street sign, and ran on. A few minutes later, he turned onto the street where Robert Torrelson lived. Robert Torrelson, he knew, lived at number thirty-four.He passed number eighteen, then twenty, and raised his eyes, looking ahead. A couple of the neighbors stopped their work and watched him as he jogged by, their eyes wary. A moment later, he reached Robert Torrelson’s home, trying not to be obvious as he glanced toward it.It was a home like most of the others along the street:not exactly well tended, but not a shack, either. Rather, it was somewhere in between—a sort of stalemate between man and nature in their battle over the house. At least half a century old, the house was single sto without gutters to divert runoff, the rain of a thousand storms had streaked the white paint with gray, On the porch were two weathered rockers angled toward each other. Around the windows, he could see a lone strand of Christmas lights.Toward the back of the property was a small outbuilding with the front doors propped open. Inside were two work-benches, covered with nets and fishing rods, chests and tools. Two large grappling hooks were leaning against the wall, and he could see a yellow rain slicker hanging on a peg, just inside. From the shadows behind it, a man emerged, car-rying a bucket.The figure caught Paul off guard, and he turned away be-fore the man could see him staring. It was too early to pay him a visit, nor did he want to do this in running clothes. Instead, he raised his chin against the breeze, turned at the next corner, and tried to find his earlier pace.It wasn’t easy. The image of the man stayed with him, making him feel sluggish, each step more difficult than the last. Despite the cold, by the time he finished, there was a thin sheen of sweat on his face.He walked the last fifty yards to the Inn, letting his legs cool down. From the road, he could see that the light in the kitchen had been turned on.Knowing what it meant, he smiled.While Paul was out, Adrienne’s children had phoned and she’d spent a few minutes talking to each of them, glad they were having a good time with their father. A little while later, at the top of the hour, she called the nursing home.Though her father couldn’t answer the phone, she’d made arrangements to have Gail, one of the nurses, answer for him, and she’d picked up on the second ring.“Right on time,” Gail said. “I was just telling your father that you’d be calling any minute.”“How’s he doing today?”“He’s a little tired, but other than that, he’s fine. Hold on while I put the phone by his ear, okay?”A moment later, when she heard her father’s raspy breaths, Adrienne closed her eyes.“Hi, Daddy,” she started, and for several minutes she vis-ited with him, just as she would have had she been there with him. She told him about the Inn and the beach, the storm clouds and the lightning, and though she didn’t mention Paul, she wondered if her father could hear the same tremor in her voice that she could as she danced around his name.Paul made his way up the steps, and inside, the aroma of bacon filled the air, as if welcoming him home. A moment later, Adrienne pushed through the swinging doors.She was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater that ac-cented the color of her eyes. In the morning light, they were almost turquoise, reminding him of crystal skies in spring.“You were up early.” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.To Paul, the gesture seemed oddly sensual, and he wiped at the sweat on his brow. “Yeah, I wanted to get my run out of the way before the rest of the day starts.”“Did it go okay?”“I’ve felt better, but at least it’s done.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “It smells great in here, by the way.”“I started breakfast while you were out.” She motioned over her shoulder. “Do you want to eat now or wait a lit-tle?”“I’d like to shower first, if that’s okay.”“It’s fine. I was thinking of making grits, which take twenty minutes anyway. How do you want your eggs?”“Scrambled ?”“I think I can manage that.” She paused, liking the frankness of his stare and letting it continue for a moment longer. “Let me get the bacon before it burns,” she finally said. “See you in a few?”“Sure.”After watching her go, Paul climbed the steps to his room, shaking his head, thinking how nice she’d looked. He took off his clothes, rinsed his shirt in the sink and hung it over the curtain rod, then turned the faucet. As Adrienne had warned, it took a while before the hot water came on.He showered, shaved, and threw on a pair of Dockers, a collared shirt, and loafers, then went to join her. In the kitchen, Adrienne had set the table and was carrying the last two bowls to the table, one with toast, the other with sliced fruit. As Paul moved around her, he caught a trace of the jasmine shampoo she’d used on her hair that morning.“I hope you don’t mind if I join you again,” she said.Paul pulled out her chair, “Not at all. In fact, I was hop-ing you would. Please.” He motioned for her to sit.She let him push her chair in for her, then watched him take his seat as well. “I tried to scrounge up a paper,” she said, “but the rack at the general store was already empty by the time I got there.”“I’m not surprised. There were lots of people out this morning. I guess everyone’s wondering how bad it’s going to be today.”“It doesn’t look much worse than it did yesterday.”“That’s because you don’t live here.”“You don’t live here, either.”“No, but I’ve been in a big storm before. In fact, did I ever tell you about the time I was in college and went down to Wilmington?”Adrienne laughed.  “And you swore you never told that story.”“I guess it’s coming easier now that I’ve broken the ice. And it’s my one good story. Everything else is boring.”“I doubt that. From what you’ve told me, I’m thinking that your life has been anything but boring.”He smiled, unsure if she meant it as a compliment, but pleased nonetheless.“What did Jean say had to be done today?”Adrienne scooped out some eggs and passed the bowl to-ward him.“Well, the furniture on the porches needs to be stored in the shed. The windows need to be closed and the shutters latched from the inside. Then, the hurricane guards have to be put up. Supposedly, they lock together and there are some hooks you drop in t after that, we brace them with two-by-fours. The wood for that is sup-posed to be stacked with the hurricane guards.”“She has a ladder, I hope.”“It’s under the house, too.”“It doesn’t sound too bad. But like I said yesterday, I’d be happy to help you with it after I get back.”She looked at him. “You sure? You don’t have to do this.”“It’s no bother. I don’t have anything else planned, any-way. And to be honest, it would be impossible for me to sit inside while you were doing all that work. I’d feel guilty, even if I’m the guest.”“Thank you.”“No problem.”They finished serving up, poured the coffee, and started eating. Paul watched her butter a piece of toast, momen-tarily absorbed in her task. In the gray morning light, she was pretty, even prettier than he’d realized the day before.“You’re going to talk to that person you mentionedyes-terday ?“Paul nodded. “After breakfast,” he said.“You don’t sound too happy about it.”“I don’t know whether to be happy or not.”“Why?”After the briefest hesitation, he told her about Jill and Robert Torrelson—the operation, the autopsy, and all that had happened in the aftermath, including the note he’d re-ceived in the mail. When he finished, Adrienne seemed to be studying him.“And you have no idea what he wants?”“I assume it’s something about the lawsuit.”Adrienne wasn’t so sure about that, but she said nothing. Instead, she reached for her coffee.“Well, no matter what happens, I think you’re doing the right thing. Just like you’re doing with Mark.”He didn’t say anything, but then, he didn’t have to. The fact that she understood was more than enough.It was all that he wanted from anyone these days, and though he’d met her only the day before, he sensed that somehow she already knew him better than most people did.Or maybe, he thought, better than anyone.报报考高级农艺师在什么情况下免考英语报报考高级农艺师在什么情况下免考英语
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