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

<passage>:
front door at exactly 7:45. No one ever stopped to talk with him. Even the man at the Red Star confectionery, where he bought his cigar, remained silent while the purchase was being made. Mr. Like an automaton he turned again and paced to the hall door. coin, the man reached in and brought forth the box, and Mr. Chambers took his cigar. That was all. For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be left alone. The newer generation of townsfolk called it Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner. revolutionary to cost Mr. Chambers his post at the university. October wind was rustling the dead leaves when Mr. Chambers years. The bedroom was for sleeping, the kitchen for eating. This room was for living. This was his last stand. houses already were gone. They had not lived with them as he had twenty years ago. He tucked the muffler more securely under the rusty old topcoat and pulled his bowler hat more firmly on his he never did that. For twenty years, since the year following his expulsion from the university, he had lived by the clock. The same thing, at the same time, day after day. He had not 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. snarling and growling, snapping at his heels. But Mr. Chambers 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 Something one could expect to happen. Perhaps, if he thought hard enough, he could bring them back. But, after all, what was the use? One man, alone, could not stand Mr. Chambers had written. But as Mr. Chambers neared them they fell into what seemed an Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first then stepped back and Mr. Chambers continued on his walk. 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. He had no cigar. For the first time he had neglected to purchase his evening smoke. Shaken, muttering to himself, Mr. Chambers let himself in his house and locked the door behind him. But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had loved music ... the kind of music he could get by tuning in symphonic orchestras on the radio. But the radio stood silent in the corner, the cord out of its socket. Mr. Chambers had pulled it out many years before. To be precise, upon the night when the symphonic broadcast had been interrupted to give a news flash. He had stopped reading newspapers and magazines too, had exiled himself to a few city blocks. And as the years flowed by, that unexplainable terror. Beyond them he never went. But recluse though he was, he could not on occasion escape from undoubtedly induced by hunger and privation and the miseries of war. But those things he put away as items far removed from his own But there were two things tonight that did matter. Two curious, incredible events. He had arrived home fifteen minutes early. He 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. Mr. Chambers loved that picture. It had depth, he always said. It He had put it there because he liked it best. 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 define nor understand. When finally he dozed off it was to lose himself in a series of horrific dreams. He dreamed first that he was a castaway on a neither see nor hear, but only could imagine. And as he sought to flee he stayed in the one place. His legs worked frantically, pumping like pistons, but he could make no progress. It was as if he ran upon a treadway. and he tried to scream and couldn't. He opened his mouth and 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 not forget tonight! You must remember to stop and get your cigar!" The street light at the corner of Jefferson was still out and in And now, he told himself, the Red Star confectionery is in the next block. I must not forget tonight. To forget twice in a row would be just too much. He grasped that thought firmly in his mind, strode just a bit more rapidly down the street. For the first time in twenty years, Mr. Chambers retraced his had disappeared! Now he understood why he had missed the store on the night before, why he had arrived home fifteen minutes early. On legs that were dead things he stumbled back to his home. He slammed and locked the door behind him and made his way unsteadily to his chair in the corner. Mr. Chambers shivered, reached to turn up the collar of his coat, There was something back of this, Mr. Chambers told himself. the happenings in the world from which he had excluded himself. He brought them back to mind now and lingered over the one central theme of the talk he overheard: the wars and plagues. Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and lop-sided ... as bad, perhaps worse than before! Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it and double bolted it. Then he went to his bedroom and took two sleeping powders. The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers shriveled leaves reluctant to leave the parent branch. The tree was there now. But it hadn't been when he first had looked. Mr. Chambers was sure of that. too might right itself. But Mr. Chambers was very weary. Too him. Rigid, he sat there, limp inside at the thought. Minutes later he arose and almost ran across the room to the old mahogany that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered. of some anti-rational cult, had forced his expulsion from the A tumultuous idea hammered at him. Men had died by the millions The plague had swept Europe and Asia almost clean of life, had blighted Africa, had reached South America ... might even have come to the United States. He remembered the whispers he had heard, the words of the men at the drugstore corner, the buildings disappearing. Something scientists could not explain. There were not sufficient minds in existence to retain the Abruptly Mr. Chambers closed the book, shoved it back in the case and picked up his hat and coat. He had to know more. He had to find someone who could tell him. With a wild cry, Mr. Chambers turned and ran. Back down the that Mr. Chambers felt the eyes peering at him. Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not lock it. There was no need of locks ... not any more. A few coals of fire still smouldered in the grate and going there, he stirred them up, raked away the ash, piled on more wood. The flames leaped merrily, dancing in the chimney's throat. Without removing his hat and coat, he sank exhausted in his favorite chair, closed his eyes then opened them again. go. But how long could he ... his brain ... maintain its existence? Mr. Chambers stared at the marine print and for a moment a little Wheeling, he stared across the room. Was it his imagination, or Could it be that he was going mad? He had heard whispers when he had passed, whispers the gossiping housewives had not intended

<question>:
Why was Mr. Chambers horrified by the thought of places disappearing?

<options>:
A He realized that it might be related to his prior metaphysics theory
B He realized that he might be losing his mind
C He was worried for his neighbors who may had disappeared
D He was worried he wouldn't be able to get his cigars anymore

<answer>:

A