Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Mr. Jonathon Chambers left his house on Maple Street at exactly home. He didn't walk fast. He took his time. He always returned to his front door at exactly 7:45. No one ever stopped to talk with Like an automaton he turned again and paced to the hall door. his cigar, remained silent while the purchase was being made. Mr. Chambers merely tapped on the glass top of the counter with a Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner. For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be Chambers took his cigar. That was all. was left to him. Perhaps there were other men like him, he thought. Men who stood at bay against the emptiness that marked the transition from one This room, he knew, would stay the longest. And when the rest of revolutionary to cost Mr. Chambers his post at the university. October wind was rustling the dead leaves when Mr. Chambers started out at seven o'clock. It was a good night, he told himself, smelling the clean, crisp air of autumn and the faint pungence of distant wood smoke. He walked unhurriedly, swinging his cane a bit less jauntily than deliberately set upon such a life of routine. A bachelor, living alone with sufficient money to supply his humble needs, the timed existence had grown on him gradually. Mr. Chambers turned his eyes back into the room. The clock was snarling and growling, snapping at his heels. But Mr. Chambers room. ticking slowly, steadily. The greyness was stealing into the was blurting floated to Mr. Chambers. "Oh, well," said Mr. Chambers, "I never did like that very well." The wind whipped the muted words away and Mr. Chambers grumbled Mr. Chambers had written. autumn darkness as he walked along. For there was nothing ... of Oak and Lincoln and they were talking excitedly. Mr. Chambers But as Mr. Chambers neared them they fell into what seemed an abashed silence and watched him pass. He, on his part, gave them no sign of recognition. That was the way it had been for many years, ever since the people had become convinced that he did not wish to talk. One of the men half started forward as if to speak to him, but then stepped back and Mr. Chambers continued on his walk. Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first There was one answer to all of that. He simply didn't know. Nothingness advanced upon him, ate its way across the room, stalking him as he sat in the chair underneath the lamp. And he waited for it. The room, or what was left of it, plunged into dreadful silence. audibly. But 15 minutes too soon! For twenty years, day in, day out, he had started out at seven and returned at a quarter of eight. Now.... It wasn't until then that he realized something else was wrong. Shaken, muttering to himself, Mr. Chambers let himself in his shook his head in bewilderment. Silence filled the room. A silence that was measured by the But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had the men talked about on the drugstore corner when they didn't see him coming. of them. Others might discuss and worry over them if they wished. To him they simply did not matter. But there were two things tonight that did matter. Two curious, had forgotten his cigar. Huddled in the chair, he frowned slowly. It was disquieting to have something like that happen. There must be something wrong. Had his long exile finally turned his mind ... perhaps just a Mr. Chambers loved that picture. It had depth, he always said. It fireplace, the old English prints in the corner where he sat, the Further reverie became an effort as Mr. Chambers felt himself succumbing to weariness. He undressed and went to bed. For an hour he lay awake, assailed by vague fears he could neither When finally he dozed off it was to lose himself in a series of strained his vocal cords and filled his lungs to bursting with the urge to shriek ... but not a sound came from his lips. All next day he was uneasy and as he left the house that evening, at precisely seven o'clock, he kept saying to himself: "You must would be just too much. He grasped that thought firmly in his mind, strode just a bit friendly light upon the sidewalk to mark the little store tucked away in this residential section. For the first time in twenty years, Mr. Chambers retraced his Mr. Chambers shivered, reached to turn up the collar of his coat, merrily in the grate. The cold he felt came from something ... somewhere else. The cold of fear and horror, the chill of a half whispered thought. A deathly silence had fallen, a silence still measured by the pendulum clock. And yet a silence that held a different tenor than he had ever sensed before. Not a homey, comfortable silence ... but a silence that hinted at emptiness and nothingness. demanded recognition. Something tied up with the fragments of talk he had heard on the drugstore corner, bits of news broadcasts he had heard as he walked along the street, the brain failed to find the answer. The pendulum clock struck slowly, its every other chime as usual Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and With a sigh of relief, Mr. Chambers turned back into the hall. Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers looked. Mr. Chambers was sure of that. when he thought of how it should look. too might right itself. But Mr. Chambers was very weary. Too later he arose and almost ran across the room to the old mahogany that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered. its philosophy to a class of undergraduates. The newspapers, he remembered, had made a great deal of it at the time. Tongues had been set to wagging. Narrow-minded townsfolk, failing to understand either his philosophy or his aim, but seeing in him another exponent Mr. Chambers took it down now, opened its cover and began Then his eyes focused on the paragraph, a paragraph written so will crumple and slip away like a column of sand.... His eyes followed down the page: natural conclusion if we accept the double hypothesis: that mind come to the United States. He remembered the whispers he had heard, the words of the men at the drugstore corner, the Abruptly Mr. Chambers closed the book, shoved it back in the case closed in behind him. The houses were wiped out, the sidewalk faded into nothing. He shouted, hoping to attract attention. But his voice frightened him. It seemed to ricochet up and into the higher levels of the sky, as if a giant door had been opened to a mighty room high With a wild cry, Mr. Chambers turned and ran. Back down the bouncing on his head. Panting, he reached the gate and stumbled up the walk, thankful that Mr. Chambers felt the eyes peering at him. down with malevolent composure. Then the city and the face slid out of focus Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not with its measured ticking it chimed abruptly and the vase sent up its usual sympathetic vibration. world, his own private world, and as such it would be the last to Mr. Chambers stared at the marine print and for a moment a little breath of reassurance returned to him. They couldn't take this familiar things that would go first. Wheeling, he stared across the room. Was it his imagination, or children and barking dogs? Might not the Red Star confectionery still exist, splashing the street with the red of its neon sign? Could it be that he was going mad? He had heard whispers when he had passed, whispers the gossiping housewives had not intended him to hear. And he had heard the shouting of boys when he walked by. They thought him mad. Could he be really mad? But he knew he wasn't mad. He knew that he perhaps was the sanest

<question>:
Which of the following words best describes Mr. Jonathan Chambers?

<options>:
A Habitual
B Mad
C Mean
D Shy

<answer>:

A