At the time my son was born in 1956, I shared a hospital room with a young woman who bore a boy on the same day. Partly because my parents  46 a shop selling flowers, the room was soon  47  with the lovely scent of roses.
　  As the seventh floral arrangement was   48  , I was beginning to feel  49 , for no flowers had arrived for my roommate, Ann. She sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward to admire the  50  bouquet. She was a pretty young woman, yet there was something about her large, brown eyes that made me think she had known too much  51 , too much sadness for one so young. I had the feeling she had always had to admire someone else’  52  .
　 “I’m enjoying every  53 of this”, she said as though she had read my   54  and was trying to reassure me. “Wasn’t I the lucky one to get you for a   55 ？”
　  I still felt uncomfortable, however.  56   there were some magic button I could push to  57   the sadness in her eyes. Well, I thought, at least,I can see that she has some flowers. When my mother and father came to see me that day, I asked them to send  58 some.
　　The flowers arrived just   59  Ann and I were finishing supper.
　　“More flowers for you,” she said,   60  .
　　“No, not this time,” I said, looking at the     61   “These are for you.”
　　Ann stared at the blossoms a long time, not saying anything. She ran her 62  across the pale blue bouquets and  63 touched each of the sweet roses as though trying to engrave（刻画） them on her 64 .
　　“How can I ever thank you” she said softly.
I was almost embarrassed. It was such a little    65  on my part.

How ____ the music sounds and how _____ her voice is!

　 A. sweet; good 　 B. sweetly; well

　 C. sweet; well 　 D. sweetly; good

At the time my son was born in 1956, I shared a hospital room with a young woman who bore a boy on the same day. Partly because my parents  46 a shop selling flowers, the room was soon  47  with the lovely scent of roses.

　  As the seventh floral arrangement was   48  , I was beginning to feel  49 , for no flowers had arrived for my roommate, Ann. She sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward to admire the  50  bouquet. She was a pretty young woman, yet there was something about her large, brown eyes that made me think she had known too much  51 , too much sadness for one so young. I had the feeling she had always had to admire someone else’  52  .

　 “I’m enjoying every  53 of this”, she said as though she had read my   54  and was trying to reassure me. “Wasn’t I the lucky one to get you for a   55 ？”

　  I still felt uncomfortable, however.  56   there were some magic button I could push to  57   the sadness in her eyes. Well, I thought, at least,I can see that she has some flowers. When my mother and father came to see me that day, I asked them to send  58 some.

　　The flowers arrived just   59  Ann and I were finishing supper.

　　“More flowers for you,” she said,   60  .

　　“No, not this time,” I said, looking at the     61   “These are for you.”

　　Ann stared at the blossoms a long time, not saying anything. She ran her 62  across the pale blue bouquets and  63 touched each of the sweet roses as though trying to engrave（刻画） them on her 64 .

　　“How can I ever thank you” she said softly.

I was almost embarrassed. It was such a little    65  on my part.

How ____ the music sounds and how _____ her voice is!

　 A. sweet; good 　 B. sweetly; well

　 C. sweet; well 　 D. sweetly; good