UNSALTED BUTTER IS BEST FOR THIS RECIPE, BUT _______ THAT, MARGARI...

20. Unsalted butter is best for this recipe, but _______ that, margarine will do.A. except B. failing C. for all of D. given III. READING COMPREHENSIONReading 1 You are going to read a newspaper article. For questions 1 – 10, choose the answer(A, B, C or D) Which you think fits best according to the text. (10 pts)How I found my true voiceAs an interpreter, Suzanne Glass could speak only for others – but the work provided terrificmaterial for her first novel. ‘No, no, no! You’ve got to get away from this or you’re going to lose it.’ The voicereverberating in my head was my own. I was at an international conference. My throat waskilling me and my headphones were pinching. I had just been interpreting a speakerwhose last words had been: ‘We must take very seriously the standardization of thelength of cucumbers and the size of tomatoes.’ You can’t afford to have your ownthoughts when you’re interpreting simultaneously, so, of course, I missed the speaker’snext sentence and lost his train of thought. Sitting in a darkened booth at the back of a hugeconference hall, I was thrown. Fortunately, my colleague grabbed my microphone and tookover. This high-pressure, high-output work was not quite the dream profession I had hoped for.Although I had fun with it in the beginning – occasionally being among the first to hear ofmedical and political breakthroughs would be exciting for any 25-year-old –I realized that thiswas a job in which I would never be able to find my own voice. I had always known that wordswould be my life in one form or another. My mother thought she’d given birth to an alienwhen I began to talk at the age of seven months. That momentous day, she had placed myplaypen in the hallway and gone into the bedroom. In imitation of the words she had repeated tome again and again, I apparently called out towards the bedroom door: ‘I see you. I seeyou.’ I was already in training for a career as a professional parrot. But how mistaken I was to think that international interpreting would be glamorous. Thespeaker rarely stops to think that there’s someone at the back of the room, listening to hiswords, absorbing their meaning, and converting them into another language at the sametime. Often I was confronted with a droner, a whisperer or a mumbler through my headphones.The mumblers were the worst. Most of the time, an interpreter is thought of as a machine – afunnel, a conduit, which, I suppose, is precisely what we are. Sometimes, when those we aretranslating for hear us cough or sneeze, or turn round and look at us behind the smoky glass ofthe booth, I think they’re surprised to see that we’re actually alive. Ironically, part of the secret of interpreting is non-verbal communication. You have to sensewhen your partner is tired, and offer to take over. At the same time, you have to be careful not tocut him short and hog the microphone. Interpreters can be a bit like actors: they like to showoff. You do develop friendships when you’re working in such close proximity, but there’s ahuge amount of competitiveness among interpreters. They check on each other and sometimeseven count each other’s mistranslations. Translating other people’s ideas prevented me from feeling involved and creative as aninterpreter. Actually, you can’t be a creative interpreter. It’s a contradiction in terms.Sometimes, when I disagreed with a speaker, I wanted to rip off my headphones, jump upand run out of the booth, shouting: ‘Rubbish. Rubbish. You’re talking a lot of nonsense, andthis is what I think about it.’ Instead, I had to sit there and regurgitate opinions in violentcontradiction with my own. Sometimes, I’d get my revenge by playing games with thespeaker’s tone of voice. If he was being serious, I’d make him sound jocular. If he was beinglight-hearted, I’d make him sound earnest. Eventually, I wanted to find a career where my own words would matter and where myown voice would be heard. So, to redress the balance, I decided to write a novel. While I waswriting it, I did go back and interpret at a few conferences to get inside the head ofDominique, my main character. At first, I was a little rusty and a couple of the delegatesturned round to glare at me, but after twenty minutes, I was back into it, playing that old gameof mental gymnastics. Interpreting is like learning to turn somersaults: you never forget how todo it. But for me, sitting in the booth had a ghost-like quality to it – as though I had gone backinto a past life - a life that belonged to the time before I found my own voice.