Making Inferences Practice Test
•15 QuestionsRead the passage, then answer the question.
On the train platform, a new sign had appeared: PLEASE REPORT SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY. The letters were large, the tone politely urgent. Beneath it, someone had taped a smaller flyer advertising a poetry reading at the library, the paper already curling at the edges.
Hiroko waited with her violin case at her feet. She had played at the library before, in a room that smelled of old books and lemon cleaner, where the audience listened as if they were trying not to disturb the shelves. Today, she was headed to a downtown audition, the kind that required an outfit chosen for its invisibility.
A man in a security uniform walked past, then doubled back. His gaze paused on her case. “What’s in there?” he asked.
“A violin,” Hiroko said, and shifted the case slightly so the worn handle showed.
He nodded, but his eyes lingered. “You got ID?”
Hiroko reached into her bag. Her fingers brushed the audition music, the edges softened from practice. She handed him her driver’s license.
He studied it longer than necessary, then returned it with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “All right,” he said. “Just doing my job.”
When the train arrived, Hiroko picked up her case and boarded. Inside, she chose a seat beneath a map of the city, its lines neat and confident. She rested the case on her lap and kept her hand on it until the doors closed.
Question: What does the author imply about public vigilance through Hiroko’s interaction with the guard?
Read the passage, then answer the question.
On the train platform, a new sign had appeared: PLEASE REPORT SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY. The letters were large, the tone politely urgent. Beneath it, someone had taped a smaller flyer advertising a poetry reading at the library, the paper already curling at the edges.
Hiroko waited with her violin case at her feet. She had played at the library before, in a room that smelled of old books and lemon cleaner, where the audience listened as if they were trying not to disturb the shelves. Today, she was headed to a downtown audition, the kind that required an outfit chosen for its invisibility.
A man in a security uniform walked past, then doubled back. His gaze paused on her case. “What’s in there?” he asked.
“A violin,” Hiroko said, and shifted the case slightly so the worn handle showed.
He nodded, but his eyes lingered. “You got ID?”
Hiroko reached into her bag. Her fingers brushed the audition music, the edges softened from practice. She handed him her driver’s license.
He studied it longer than necessary, then returned it with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “All right,” he said. “Just doing my job.”
When the train arrived, Hiroko picked up her case and boarded. Inside, she chose a seat beneath a map of the city, its lines neat and confident. She rested the case on her lap and kept her hand on it until the doors closed.
Question: What does the author imply about public vigilance through Hiroko’s interaction with the guard?