| 完形填空。 | ||||
| Last July, my 12-year-old car died on California's Santa Freeway. It was an hour before sunset, and I was 25 miles from home. I couldn't reach anyone to pick me up, so I 1 to take a bus. Not knowing the routes (线路), I thought I'd just go east. A bus stopped. I got 2 and asked the driver how far she was going. "Ten more miles," she said. There was 3 bus I could take from there. This clearly was going to be a long night. I got off at the end of the route and she told me which bus to look 4 . After waiting 30 minutes, I began to think about a very expensive taxi 5 home. Then a bus came up. There was no lighted number above its windshield (挡风玻璃). It was out of service, but the door opened. It was the same driver. "I just can't leave you here," she said. "This isn't the nicest place. I will take you home." "You will drive me home on the bus?" I asked in 6 . "No, I will take you in my car," she said. "It's a long way." "Come on," she said. "I have nothing 7 to do." She began telling me a story 8 we drove from the station in the car. A few days 9 , her brother had run out of gas (汽油). A kind man picked him up, took him to a service station and then back to his car. "I'm just passing the kindness along," she said. When I offered her money as a thank-you, she refused. "Just do 10 nice for somebody. Pass it along," she said. | ||||
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