ЕГЭ-2024. Английский. Варианты на основе открытого банка ФИПИ - стр. 46

1. if they could get the jellies’ attention

2. how talkative they were in a situation close to

3. when three science students crept into the lab

4. that sleep evolved early in the history of animal

5. strengthen memory and keep the brain healthy

6. that the upside-down jellyfish Cassiopea showed

7. the students were having coffee and started debating

Ответ:

A

B

C

D

E

F

Прочитайте текст и выполните задания 12–18. В каждом задании запишите в поле ответа цифру 1, 2, 3 или 4, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.

Highlands Express

The journey began on a September evening in London as a black cab rushed me to Euston station. I had a weekend to myself, and I meant to make the most of it by hitting the famous Highlands of Scotland on a Caledonian Sleeper, a working train also affectionately known as the Deerstalker Express. I saw it as an escape from hectic city life.

A train is a very public place, but a berth on the sleeper is one of the most private. I was shown to my little first-class cabin – a little bed, little basin, window, night light and an extra blanket, trim as a toy house. I took a nibble in the comfortable, modern dining car, and retired to bed. London had slipped away, and it was black out there. I pulled the blind, put out the lamp, and arranged myself for sleep.

The train pulled into the station at 9:43 a.m. The centre of Fort William, I quickly learned, is but a street of fishing and hiking shops, with a spiky Victorian church, a handsome stone hotel, and a lake running alongside it. Before I took a cab to the hotel, I wandered up High Street to find the local paper and a cup of tea. A few hours later, I found myself standing up to my knees in the River Lochy, fishing with the expert assistance of a local guide, Martin Brown. The hotel staff was quite helpful and had arranged the outing with Martin. My aim was to learn the basics of fly-fishing. While Martin effortlessly handled yards and yards of fishing line so that his fly touched a small pool across the river, I splashed my fly into the river a few yards off. My first few casts were a mess, but I gradually improved. Soon, I hooked something. The rod grew heavy and lively. Eventually, I got very cold feet and aching arms and some sense of the pleasures of fishing, just as I had hoped.

That evening, after Martin dropped me off at the hotel, I found a place to sit among the armchair atolls in the oceanic great hall. Later, I was summoned to my table in one of the dining rooms, walls hung with prints. My meal was