描述
开 本: 16开纸 张: 胶版纸包 装: 平装-胶订是否套装: 否国际标准书号ISBN: 9787561949573
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内容简介
《剑桥双语分级阅读·小说馆：第4级（套装12册）》是国内全部由当地原创短篇小说组成的分级读物，能提升读者21世纪跨文化交际技能。由人大附中、北大附中、清华附中等全国30多所重点中学的50多位英语教师集体编译、推荐。
目 录
《幕后黑手》：
People in the story/故事中的人物
Places in the story/故事中的地点
Before reading/读前思考
Chapter 1 Atthepub/在酒吧
Chapter 2 Thepast/往事
Chapter 3 Amsterdamspring/阿姆斯特丹的春天
Chapter 4 Talkwithastriker/与前锋交谈
Chapter 5 Dinnerat Sluizer’s/在斯劳泽餐厅的晚餐
Chapter 6 Bert’sstory/伯特提供的信息
Chapter 7 Rotterdam/鹿特丹之行
Chapter 8 Lifegetsinteresting/扑朔迷离
Chapter 9 The Amsterdam Connection/阿姆斯特丹集团
Chapter 10 A policeman/德弗里斯督察
Chapter 11 Afootball match/足球比赛
Chapter 12 Agoalkeeper/守门员
Chapter 13 Aplan/计划
Chapter 14 Prisoner/囚犯
Chapter 15 Stories，真相
Chapter 16 Goodbye Amsterdam/再见，阿姆斯特丹
After reading/读后活动
Learning guide/学习指导
Translation/参考译文
People in the story/故事中的人物
Places in the story/故事中的地点
Before reading/读前思考
Chapter 1 Atthepub/在酒吧
Chapter 2 Thepast/往事
Chapter 3 Amsterdamspring/阿姆斯特丹的春天
Chapter 4 Talkwithastriker/与前锋交谈
Chapter 5 Dinnerat Sluizer’s/在斯劳泽餐厅的晚餐
Chapter 6 Bert’sstory/伯特提供的信息
Chapter 7 Rotterdam/鹿特丹之行
Chapter 8 Lifegetsinteresting/扑朔迷离
Chapter 9 The Amsterdam Connection/阿姆斯特丹集团
Chapter 10 A policeman/德弗里斯督察
Chapter 11 Afootball match/足球比赛
Chapter 12 Agoalkeeper/守门员
Chapter 13 Aplan/计划
Chapter 14 Prisoner/囚犯
Chapter 15 Stories，真相
Chapter 16 Goodbye Amsterdam/再见，阿姆斯特丹
After reading/读后活动
Learning guide/学习指导
Translation/参考译文
《神秘搭车人》：
People in the story/故事中的人物
Places in the story/故事中的地点
Before reading/读前思考
Chapter 1 Light and darkness/光明与黑暗
Chapter 2 Happybirthday/生日快乐
Chapter 3 Theladyinwhite/白衣女人
Chapter 4 Losing control/失控
Chapter 5 Ajoumeyintothepast/回忆之旅
Chapter 6 The policeman’s story-the accident/警察的讲述——事故
Chapter 7 John’s story/约翰的故事
Chapter 8 Ireland-peace andmemories/爱尔兰——平和与回忆
Chapter 9 Sleepingbythepool/在水池边入睡
Chapter 10Dreams untold， dreams told/没说出的梦和说出的梦
Chapter 11 Stop it！Stop it！/停下来！停下来！
Chapter 12Don’tlook back/不要回头看
After reading/读后活动
Leanung guide/学习指导
Translation/参考译文
《罪案追凶》
《贫富之间》
《校园谜案》
《相守》
《柏林快车》
《情定湖区》
《意外人生》
《屋下爱情》
《死亡诊断》
《奇幻水果蛋糕》
前 言
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《幕后黑手》：
I arrived in Amsterdam at 9:30 on Monday morning. I rang Elly van Praag of the Dutch police from Schiphol airport. Elly was the friend I had made during the case of the stolen paintings two years ago.Elly wasn’t working that morning and we arranged to meet two hours later at a cafe we knew in the Jordaan, an old part ofAmsterdam. That would give me time to go to my hotel and check in. I caught the train from the airport and took a taxi into the centre from Central Station. The Echo had booked me into a hotel on the Keizersgracht. There were a lot of visitors to Amsterdam in spring and good rooms were difficult to find. The hotel wasn’t very nice, but I didn’t expect to be staying long. I left my bag and went to meet Elly.
Elly was already at the cafe when I arrived, sitting at a table outside, next to the Prinsengracht canal. She smiled and stood up as she saw me coming, and kissed me three times in the Dutch way. ‘Hey, Kate, wonderful to see you,’ she said,
Elly was typically Dutch, if there is such a thing. She was tall and very blonde, and looked like a sportswoman. In fact, she was a very good cyclist, and when she wasn’t fighting crime in Amsterdam, was usually to be found cycling hundreds of kilometres around Holland with a number on her back. She looked like the daughter of a Dutch farmer, which she was, with red cheeks and bright blue eyes. And like most Dutch people of her age – she was in her early thirties – she spoke English very well. We sat down and ordered coffee. It was a fine spring day; the sky was blue with little white clouds here and there.
’I’m sorry about your friend,’ Elly said.
’Yes,’ I said, staring at the red and white tablecloth. ‘It’s really sad.’
I told her about my meeting with Max just a few days ago. ‘He seemed to be happy and said the club was doing OK,’ I added.
Elly wasn’t a football fan and knew nothing about the Rotterdam club. She did know about crime in Amsterdam though.
De Pijp, where Max had died, was one of the oldest parts of the city, a lively place with a wonderful street market at its centre, on a street called Albert Cuypstraat. Last time I was in Amsterdam I had gone shopping there for Dutch cheese and tulips to take home. It was strange to think that this lovely colourful place was where Max had lost his life.
’De Pijp is getting quite dangerous these days, Kate,’ Elly said. ‘There have been quite a number of stabbings and shootings. We’ve been busy down there.’
’So, it just looks like it was a mugging that went wrong?’I asked.
The waiter arrived with the coffees, Elly’s black and mine koffe verkeerd or ‘wrong coffee’, the Dutch name for coffee with milk. Elly had ordered a cake too. All that crime – fighting and cycling made her hungry.
……
I arrived in Amsterdam at 9:30 on Monday morning. I rang Elly van Praag of the Dutch police from Schiphol airport. Elly was the friend I had made during the case of the stolen paintings two years ago.Elly wasn’t working that morning and we arranged to meet two hours later at a cafe we knew in the Jordaan, an old part ofAmsterdam. That would give me time to go to my hotel and check in. I caught the train from the airport and took a taxi into the centre from Central Station. The Echo had booked me into a hotel on the Keizersgracht. There were a lot of visitors to Amsterdam in spring and good rooms were difficult to find. The hotel wasn’t very nice, but I didn’t expect to be staying long. I left my bag and went to meet Elly.
Elly was already at the cafe when I arrived, sitting at a table outside, next to the Prinsengracht canal. She smiled and stood up as she saw me coming, and kissed me three times in the Dutch way. ‘Hey, Kate, wonderful to see you,’ she said,
Elly was typically Dutch, if there is such a thing. She was tall and very blonde, and looked like a sportswoman. In fact, she was a very good cyclist, and when she wasn’t fighting crime in Amsterdam, was usually to be found cycling hundreds of kilometres around Holland with a number on her back. She looked like the daughter of a Dutch farmer, which she was, with red cheeks and bright blue eyes. And like most Dutch people of her age – she was in her early thirties – she spoke English very well. We sat down and ordered coffee. It was a fine spring day; the sky was blue with little white clouds here and there.
’I’m sorry about your friend,’ Elly said.
’Yes,’ I said, staring at the red and white tablecloth. ‘It’s really sad.’
I told her about my meeting with Max just a few days ago. ‘He seemed to be happy and said the club was doing OK,’ I added.
Elly wasn’t a football fan and knew nothing about the Rotterdam club. She did know about crime in Amsterdam though.
De Pijp, where Max had died, was one of the oldest parts of the city, a lively place with a wonderful street market at its centre, on a street called Albert Cuypstraat. Last time I was in Amsterdam I had gone shopping there for Dutch cheese and tulips to take home. It was strange to think that this lovely colourful place was where Max had lost his life.
’De Pijp is getting quite dangerous these days, Kate,’ Elly said. ‘There have been quite a number of stabbings and shootings. We’ve been busy down there.’
’So, it just looks like it was a mugging that went wrong?’I asked.
The waiter arrived with the coffees, Elly’s black and mine koffe verkeerd or ‘wrong coffee’, the Dutch name for coffee with milk. Elly had ordered a cake too. All that crime – fighting and cycling made her hungry.
……
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