Finally she was gone and janie hurried to her kitchen to put on supper and found tea cake sitting in there with his head between his hands. "tea cake! ah didn't know you wuz home." "ah know yuh didn't. ah been heah uh long time listenin' to dat heifer run me down tuh de dawgs uh try tuh tole you off from me." "so dat whut she wuz up to? ah didn't know." "course she is. she got some no-count brother she wants yuh tuh hook up wid and take keer of ah reckon." "shucks! if dat's her notion she's barkin' up de wrong tree. mah hands is full already." through janie's dialogue in this excerpt, it is reasonable to infer that she is a)secretly flattered by mrs. turner's suggestion. b)questioning her relationship with mrs. turner. c)devoted to tea cake and unaffected by mrs. turner's opinions. d)angry at tea cake for secretly listening in on her conversation.

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream