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

<passage>:
"These donors were dead, but you can be thankful we had parts of their brains available." Crander delved into the file and came up with a sheet. "But I should know, shouldn't I?" "Of course, but...." He did some verbal backstepping. "It was a bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same look familiar," she said cautiously. "The brown one, I mean." "The brown one?" "Your other eye's green," she told him. "Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They had to use whatever was handy." "I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original me ." "My name is Dan Merrol." They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the room and the name had to be his, and anyway he felt like Dan Merrol. didn't it? "How could I forget you?" he demanded. "You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?" Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier "What's that?" "At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a offhand except C equals pi R squared. It has to do with the velocity of light. And the rest of the stuff will come back in time." It was easier now that he'd started and he went on rapidly. "I'm thirty-three and after making a lot of money wrestling, married six girls, not necessarily in this order—Lucille, Louise, Carolyn, Katherine, Shirley and Miriam." That was quite a few marriages—maybe it was thoughtless of him to have mentioned them. No woman approves her predecessors. "That's six. Where do I come in?" "Erica. You're the seventh and best." It was just too many, now that he thought of it, and it didn't seem right. She sighed and drew away. "That was a lucky guess on your age." beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?" "I can't ! You don't have the same personality at all." She glanced at matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same personality—you can't remember anything." "And I have one brown eye and one green." "That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head," she said softly. match. Be-dum, be-dum, be-dumdum, but your knees don't match —the the last snap, which took considerable effort. She was a small girl generally, though not around the chest. It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have and all those wives too. the cuffs, contrived to lengthen them. Shoes were another difficulty. For one foot the size was not bad, but he could almost step out of the other shoe. When she wasn't looking, he wadded up a spare sock and stuffed it in the toe. He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total different . you rang the bell." His head was churning with ideas, trying to sort them out. Part of last " Whose theorem?" briskly. "The patient alone understands what he needs." She started to interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. "That's the first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of physical complications." "That's new, isn't it?" she said. "I always thought they watched the patient carefully." It ought to be new—he'd just invented it. "You know how rapidly medical practices change," he said quickly. "Anyway, when they is hungry in the morning." It was a domestic miracle that amidst all the pressing and fitting, she'd somehow prepared breakfast and he hadn't noticed. It was a simple Not a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word scrawled on it— accident —and that was where he'd got the idea. There had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He Merrol." felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant. But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was that due to? "What are you going to do?" he asked, deliberately toying with the last bite of breakfast. It gave him time to think. "They said they'd identified everyone, living or dead, and I supposed they had. After seeing you, I can believe they made any number of herself on it. II back. Had to? Of course. There were too many uncertainties still to had used that word on him. He wished they'd stop. He took back his hand, the slender one, an exquisite thing that might once have belonged one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music. "When can I see the director?" Dan Merrol." "Then I am Dan Merrol?" I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?" answered. "Miss Jerrems, the Dan Merrol file." , thought Merrol. It was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one emotion at the moment—relief at the return of his patient. our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of "Here is other evidence you may not have heard of. It's a recent development, within the last ten years, in fact. It still isn't accepted by most courts—they're always lagging—but to medical men it's the last word." Merrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. "What is taken just after your last operation. Both were corrected according to standard methods. One cell won't do it, ten yield an uncertain identity—but as few as a hundred cells from any part of the original body, excepting the blood, constitute proof more positive than fingerprints before the surgical exchange of limbs. Don't ask me why—no one knows. But it is true that cells differ from one body to certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had been no mistake—he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to done. You can search case histories and find nothing comparable." His eyebrows dropped back into place. "Of course, if you have a specific complaint...." The other just didn't understand. "But the size—it doesn't match my arm!" "Doesn't match ?" cried the doctor. "Do you have any idea of the match? True, it may not be esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the This was discovered long ago, by someone I've forgotten. But there are other factors just as potent and far more complex." He scribbled meaningless symbols on the screen with his finger. "Take the bone factors—three. They must be matched in even such a slight contact as a joint ... this was done. Then there are the tissue factors—four. Tendon factors—two. Nerve-splice factors—three again. After that, we move into a complex field, hormone-utilization factors—seven at the latest count and more coming up with further research. "That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance." Merrol leaned away because bundle pass any layman's comprehension. There are no non-technical terms to describe it." other operations and your nervous system isn't up to it." He shook his head. "Five years from now, we can help you, not before." could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica to wait? The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. "Replacement of body lepidopterist—Duke DeCaesares, wrestler—and Ben Eisenberg, mathematician, went into the places I tapped."

<question>:
How many wives did Dan Merrol have?

<options>:
A Six
B Two
C Four
D One

<answer>:

D