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

<passage>:
acknowledged. "Combine a rest-cure with business, eh?" Raising the magazine, he began reading the advertisement. And that was when he saw the line about the robots. "—the only hotel staffed entirely with robot servants—" "Robots!" he shrilled. "You mean they've developed the things to that point? Why hasn't somebody told me? I'll have Jackson's hide! I'll disfranchise him! I'll—" green-tinted by the light sifting through the walls of Martian copper-glass, and at the vistas of beautiful domed gardens framed by a dozen arches. But most of all, the robots won his delighted approval. He could see at once that they had been developed to an amazingly high state of perfection. How, he wondered again, had this been done without his knowledge? Was Scrib right? Was he slipping? Gnawing at the doubt, he watched the robots moving efficiently about, pushing patients in wheelchairs, carrying trays, guiding newcomers, performing janitorial duties tirelessly, promptly, and best of all, silently. proneness to error that was always deviling the most carefully trained office staffs! He'd investigate and find out the exact potentialities of these robots while here, and then go home and introduce them into the field of business. He'd show them whether he was slipping! Briskly he went over to the desk. He was immediately confronted with a sample of that human obstinacy that was slowly driving him mad. Machines, he sighed to himself. robot. Harper watched him shrinking and turning pale lavender in the stress of the argument. the hotel is staffed entirely with robots. They're much more expensive, really, than human employees, but so much more efficient, you know. Admit it, they give excellent service, don't they, now?" Toothily he But she had turned her glare on Harper. "You could at least be civil enough to wait your turn!" Harper smirked. "My good woman, I'm not a robot. Robots, of course, are always civil. But you should know by now that civility isn't a normal human trait." Leaving her temporarily quashed, he beckoned desk demanding service while he, Harp, was being registered. "Say, pardner," he said hoarsely, "you haven't seen any of them robots around here, have you?" Harper scowled. "Oh, haven't I?" he grated. "Robots! Do you know what they did to me." Indignation lit fires in his pale eyes. "Came in here while I was lying down peacefully digesting the first meal I've enjoyed fist and contemplated the outrage. "Why didn't you stop 'em?" reasonably asked the visitor. "Stop a robot?" Harper glared pityingly. "How? You can't reason with the blasted things. And as for using force—it's man against metal. You try it!" He ground his teeth together in futile rage. "And to think I had the insane notion that robots were the last word! Why, I was ready to staff my offices with the things!" The big man placed his large hands on his own capacious stomach and Factory. Processed food. Nothin' else. Just nothin'. That's where they wrong with me! Take it away! I'm only here for a rest-cure! Believe me! Take it away!" The robots ignored him. For the first time in his spectacular and ruthless career Harper was up against creatures that he could neither bribe, persuade nor browbeat, inveigle nor ignore. It shattered his ebbing self-confidence. He began waving his hands helplessly. The robots not only ignored Harper. They paid no attention at all to Jake Ellis, who was plucking at their metallic arms pleading, "Take me, boys. I need the treatment bad, whatever it is. I need all the of the room phone but as usual a robot voice answered sweetly, mechanically, and meaninglessly. He hung up and went miserably to bed. Something that concerned robots. But he was too exhausted to think it out. For five days now his pet robots had put him through an ordeal that made him flinch every time he thought about it. Which wasn't often, since he was almost past thinking. They plunked him into stinking gagged. They brought him weird concoctions to eat and drink and then stood over him until he consumed them. They purged and massaged and exercised him. Whenever they let him alone, he simply collapsed into bed and slept. accustomed. He closed his mind to the fact that he was sleeping for hours on end like the proverbial baby, and that he was getting such an appetite that he could almost relish even that detestable mush they sent him for breakfast. He was determined to be furious. As soon as he elevator hasn't got any button. The robots just have to come and get a man or he's stuck." "Stuck!" snarled Harp. "I'm never stuck! And I'm damned if I'll wait he watched the robots wheel away his equally delighted neighbor for his first treatment. Then he closed the door and began to don Jake's clothing. Only the robots were immune to Harper Breen's progress across the huge suave lobby. elevator, he had laid a course for the desk which loomed like an island in a moss-gray lake, and now he strode manfully toward it, ignoring the oversize trousers slapping around his stocking feet. Only the robots shared his self control. The clerk was the first to recover from the collective stupor. Frantically he pushed the button that would summon the robot guard. circled the guard and leaped behind the desk. He began to throw things at the robots. Things like inkwells and typewriters and card indexes. Especially, card indexes. "Stop it!" begged the clerk. "You'll wreck the system! We'll never get With one last appalled glare at the madman, the clerk picked up an electric finger and pointed it at the approaching robots. They became oddly inanimate. Hayes, the manager, blanched. Then he began to mottle in an apoplectic My robots!" he muttered. "As if I invented the damned things!" Despondently he looked at Harper. "Go ahead and sue, Mr. Breen. If you resignation." Again he sighed. "The trouble," he explained, "is that those fool robots are completely logical, and people aren't. There's no way to mix the two. It's dynamite. Maybe people can gradually learn to live with robots, but they haven't yet. Only we had to find it out the hard way. We—" he grimaced disgustedly—"had to pioneer in the use of robots. And it cost us so much that we can't afford to reconvert to human help. So—Operation Robot is about to bankrupt the syndicate." Hayes leaned forward like a drowning man sighting a liferaft. "What Hayes leaned toward him incredulous. "You mean you want these robots willing to discuss the matter with your superiors." With hope burgeoning for the first time in weeks, Hayes lifted his head. "My dear Mr. Breen, to get rid of these pestiferous robots, I'll back you to the hilt! I'll notify the owners at once. At once, Mr. Breen! And while we wait for them, allow me to put you up as a guest of "All right?" Scribney gulped. Why, the dried-up little turnip was human after all. "All right! Yes, sir! But aren't you going to use some of those robots for office help? Aren't they efficient and all that?" Harper's smile vanished. "Don't even mention such a thing!" he yelped. "You don't know what you're saying! I lived with those things for

<question>:
Why did Hayes want to resign?

<options>:
A Operation Robot was a failed experiment and had lost too much money.
B He was tired of dealing with unruly guests.
C He felt robots were illogical compared to humans.
D He refused to learn how to live with robots.

<answer>:

A