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

<passage>:
Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner. For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be So there he was. Embattled in the last corner of the world that was left to him. "So here I am," he said, half aloud. outlandish subject. At any rate a furore of some sort was connected with his name ... at the time an academic scandal. He forgotten, but whatever it was had been considered sufficiently 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. He looked out the window into a blank world. His neighbors' houses already were gone. They had not lived with them as he had a bit too quickly, but he told himself that this couldn't be. For 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. "... still taking place ... Empire State building disappeared ... thin air ... famed scientist, Dr. Edmund Harcourt...." 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. off the irresistible march of nothingness. One man, all alone, simply couldn't do it. absolutely nothing in the world ... that he would let upset him. That was a tenet he had laid down twenty years ago. He wondered if he would retain his individuality ... if he still would be a person. Or would he merely be a thing? There was one answer to all of that. He simply didn't know. 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. Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first time in twenty years. He leaped from his chair and then sat down again. 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 But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had 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 self exile had become a prison, an intangible, impassable wall of them. Others might discuss and worry over them if they wished. To him they simply did not matter. 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 very little ... enough to make him queer? Had he lost his sense of proportion, of perspective? No, he hadn't. Take this room, for example. After twenty years it had come to be as much a part of him as the clothes he wore. Further reverie became an effort as Mr. Chambers felt himself 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. 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!" Everything was the same as the night before. 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 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 shrieking of the newsboy calling his papers. Something to do with 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. America. Billions, perhaps. And somehow those gruesome statistics seemed tied up with his own experience. Something, somewhere, some part of his earlier life, seemed to hold an explanation. But try as he would his befuddled brain failed to find the answer. Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it remembered them, one by one. But his mind, still fogged by sleep and astonishment, took the happenings in its stride, mulled over them, lost the keen edge of fantastic terror that lurked around The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers and wrenched it out of true. Like the house he had seen across the street the night before, the house that had painfully righted itself when he thought of how it should look. And then, abruptly, something like an electric shock ran through that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered. Twenty years ago he had written it and foolishly attempted to teach its philosophy to a class of undergraduates. The newspapers, he been set to wagging. Narrow-minded townsfolk, failing to understand either his philosophy or his aim, but seeing in him another exponent of some anti-rational cult, had forced his expulsion from the school. It was a simple book, really, dismissed by most authorities as entire foundation of matter, robbed of its regenerative power, will crumple and slip away like a column of sand.... His eyes followed down the page: He had written that. And because of those words he had been called a heretic, had been compelled to resign his position at the university, had been forced into this hermit life. A tumultuous idea hammered at him. Men had died by the millions all over the world. Where there had been thousands of minds there buildings disappearing. Something scientists could not explain. But those were merely scraps of information. He did not know the whole story ... he could not know. He never listened to the radio, never read a newspaper. the missing piece of a puzzle into its slot. The significance of it all gripped him with damning clarity. There were not sufficient minds in existence to retain the up for review on a misty morning. Once he stopped and looked back and saw that the grayness had closed in behind him. The houses were wiped out, the sidewalk faded into nothing. that Mr. Chambers felt the eyes peering at him. Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not Without removing his hat and coat, he sank exhausted in his favorite chair, closed his eyes then opened them again. He sighed with relief as he saw the room was unchanged. world, his own private world, and as such it would be the last to go. But how long could he ... his brain ... maintain its existence? couldn't take this away. The rest of the world might dissolve because there was insufficient power of thought to retain its outward form. But he knew he wasn't mad. He knew that he perhaps was the sanest of all men who walked the earth. For he, and he alone, had foreseen this very thing. And the others had scoffed at him for

<question>:
Why doesn't Mr. Chambers' read or listen to the news?

<options>:
A He does not like the news.
B He does not like to be tricked by radio dramas.
C He does read and listen to the news.
D He gave up on current events after losing his job.

<answer>:

D