High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of

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问题 High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of English literature approached each other at a combined velocity of 1,200 miles per hour. They were protected from the thin, cold air by the pressurized cabins of two Boeing 707s, and from the risk of collision by the prudent arrangement of the international air corridors. Although they had never met, the two men were known to each other by name. They were, in fact, in process of exchanging posts for the next six months, and in an age of more leisurely transportation the intersection of their respective routes might have been marked by some interesting human gesture: had they waved, for example, from the decks of two ocean liners crossing in mid-Atlantic, each man simultaneously focusing a telescope, by chance, on the other, with his free hand; or, more plausibly, a little mime of mutual appraisal might have been played out through the windows of two railway compartments halted side by side at the same station somewhere in Hampshire or the Mid-West, the more self-conscious party relieved to feel himself, at last, moving off, only to discover that it is the other man’s train that is moving first... However, it was not to be. Since the two men were in airplanes, and one was bored and the other frightened of looking out of the window; since, in any case, the planes were too distant from each other to be mutually visible with the naked eye, the crossing of their paths at the still point of the turning world passed unremarked by anyone other than the narrator of this duplex chronicle.
"Duplex" as well as having the general meaning of two-fold applies in the jargon of electrical telegraphy to systems in which messages are sent simultaneously in opposite directions. Imagine, if you will, that each of these two professors of English Literature is connected to his native land, place of employment and domestic hearth by an infinitely elastic cord of emotions, attitudes and values: a cord which stretches and stretches almost to the point of invisibility, but never quite to breaking-point, as he hurtles through the air at 600 miles per hour. Imagine that when the two men alight in each others’ territory, and go about their business and pleasure, whatever vibrations are passed back by one to his native habitat will be felt by the other, and vice versa, and thus return to the transmitter subtly modified by the response of the other party; may, indeed, return to him along the other party’s cord of communication, which is, after all, anchored in the place where he has just arrived.
One of these differences we can take in at a glance from our privileged narrative altitude (higher than that of any jet). It is obvious, from his stiff, upright posture, and fulsome gratitude to the stewardess serving him a glass of orange juice, that Philip Swallow, flying westward, is unaccustomed to air travel; while to Morris Zapp, slouched in the seat of his eastbound aircraft, chewing a dead cigar (a hostess has made him extinguish it) and glowering at the meager portion of ice dissolving in his plastic tumbler of bourbon, the experience of long-distance air travel is tediously familiar. Philip Swallow has, in fact, flown before; but so seldom, and at such long intervals, that on each occasion he suffers the same trauma, an alternating current of fear and reassurance that charges and relaxes his system in a persistent and exhausting rhythm.
While he is on the ground, preparing for his journey, he thinks of flying with exhilaration: soaring up, up and away into the blue sky, cradled in aircraft that seem, from a distance, effortlessly at home in that element, as though sculpted from the sky itself. This confidence begins to fade a little when he arrives at the airport and winces at the shrill screaming of jet engines. In the sky the planes look very small. On the runways they look very big. Therefore close up they should look even bigger but in fact they don’t. His own plane, for instance, just outside the window of the assembly lounge, doesn’t look quite big enough for all the people who are going to get into it. This impression is confirmed when he passes through the tunnel into the cabin of the aircraft, a cramped tube full of writhing limbs. But when he, and the other passengers, are seated, well-being returns. The seats are so remarkably comfortable that one feels quite content to stay put, but it is reassuring that the aisle is free should one wish to walk up it. There is soothing music playing. The lighting is restful. A stewardess offers him the morning paper. His baggage is safely stowed away in the plane somewhere, or if it is not, that isn’t his fault, which is the main thing. Flying is, after all, the only way to travel. [br] The word " fulsome" in the third paragraph probably means________.

选项 A、polite
B、superfluous
C、insincere
D、euphemistic

答案 B

解析语义题。第三段首句指出，从读码者得天独厚的高度(比任何喷气式飞机都要高)来看，我们可以发现其中有一点不同。接着指出Philip Swallow的情况，很显然，从僵硬笔直的坐姿和对端上橙汁的空中小姐“fulsome”感激的态度来看，朝西飞行的菲利普.斯沃娄并不习惯空中旅行。由此可知，Philip Swallow由于很少乘坐飞机而惴惴不安，对空中小姐提供的服务也是不停地感谢，故[B]“过度的，过分的”为答案。

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