<p>Please help me with the following passage.</p>
<p>SAT January 2012</p>
<p>One day in the middle of the twentieth century, I sat in an old graveyard which had not yet been demolished, in the Kensington area of London, when a young policeman stepped off the path and came over to me. He was shy and smiling, he might have been coming over the grass to ask me for a game of tennis. He only wanted to know what I was doing but plainly he didn't like to ask. I told him I was writing a poem, and offered him a sandwich which he refused as he had just had his dinner, himself. He stopped to talk awhile, then he said good-bye, the graves must be very old, and that he wished me good luck and that it was nice to speak to somebody.
<strong><em>This was the last day of a whole chunk of my life but I didn't know that at the time.</em></strong> I sat on the stone slab of some Victorian grave writing my poem as long as the sun lasted, I lived nearby in a bed-sitting-room with a gas fire and a gas ring operated by pennies and shillings on the slot, whichever you preferred of had. My morale was high, I needed a job, but that, which should have been a depressing factor when viewed <strong><em>in cold blood</em></strong>, in fact simply was not. Neither was the swinishness of my landlord, a Mr. Alexander, short of stature. I was reluctant to go home lest he should waylay me. I owed him no rent but he kept insisting that I should take a larger and more expensive room with my books, my papers, my boxes and bags, my food-stores and the evidence of constant visitors who stayed to tea or came late.
So far I had stood up to the landlord's claim that I was virtually living a double-room life for single-room pay. At the same time I was fascinated by his swinishness. Tall Mrs. Alexander always kept in the background so far as the renting of rooms was concerned, determined not to be confused with a landlady.
Her hair was always glossy black, new from the hairdresser, her nails polished red, She stepped in and out of the house with a polite nod like another, but more superior, tenant. <strong><em>I fairly drank her in with my mind</em></strong> while smiling politely back. I had nothing whatsoever against these Alexanders except in the matter of their wanting me to take on a higher-priced room. If he had thrown me out I would still have had nothing much against them, I would mainly have been fascinated. In a sense I felt that the swine Alexander was quite excellent as such, surpassingly hand-picked. And although I wanted to avoid him on my return to my lodging I knew very well I had something to gain from a confrontation, should it happen.</p>
<p>LINE REFERENCES ARE MARKED WITH ***</p>
<p>Question: 'This was...time' was primarily intended to??
A. foreshadow future developments
B. create a mood of melancholy
C. highlight the narrator's inexperience
D. exemplify the narrator's colloquial language
E. hind at the narrator's previous misfortunes</p>
<p>Question: In context, the phrase "in cold blood" is best understood to mean
A. maliciously
B. rationally
C. in a premeditated fashion
D. with paralyzing fear
E. with heartless detachment</p>
<p>QUestion: IN context, the statement "I fairly...mind" indicated that the narrator
A. feels connected intellectually to Mrs. Alexander
B. wishes she could be like Mrs. Alexander
C. feels self-conscious in Mrs. Alexander's presence
D. shuns Mrs. Alexander's company
E. is captivated by Mrs. Alexander's style</p>
<p>Question: The narrator's attitude toward her situation is best described as
A. incredulous
B. apprehensive
C. contended
D. ambivalent
E. self-congratulatory</p>
<p>Ans: ABEC
please provide me explanations.</p>