Click to review the online content. then answer the question(s) below, using complete sentences. scroll down to view additional questions. define the five ways in which communication is contextual.

Before the german army vehicles arrived in sighet, one of the community members returned from budapest and warned everyone of the danger they were facing by staying in the community.

Read the excerpt from dominique’s personal narrative. tired of waiting for the bus, which was late for the fifth day in a row, i sat leafing through an old magazine i had stuffed in my purse the previous night. it was terribly warm for a september afternoon, and the sun cast fleeting shadows on the bus stop sign with each car that passed. i wondered when the weather would get cooler and when the new bus driver would start arriving on time. it was about then that i first noticed the apparent agitation of the man sitting next to me. finally, the bus arrived and ambled to a gradual stop directly in front of the restless man. the doors widened, and the bus driver greeted the man with his usual banter in his usual monotone. "good afternoon. how are you today? ” when writing the next few lines of dialogue, dominique should be certain that the lines provide clues about what will happen later on in the narrative. contain made-up details that make the story more exciting. include everyday language that seems real and natural. use precise words that make both men sound educated.

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream