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

<passage>:
THE GIRL IN HIS MIND By ROBERT F. YOUNG the chocoletto girl's entire costume put her but one degree above the Blake resumed watching. The girl's movements were a delicate blend of Five years as a roving psycheye had hardened Blake to commercial colonization practices "And Homer and Virgil and Aeschylus and Euripides and all the rest of them. When I grow up I shall be a most well-educated person." "I'm sure you will be," Blake said, looking at the arras. "My name is Deirdre." "Nathan," Blake said. "Nathan Blake." She got up, parted the arras, and slipped into the next room. Shame flamed in Blake's cheeks, and for a moment he considered leaving then he remembered Eldoria's dance, and he went right on sitting where he was. Blake sat down upon it. Nervously he watched Eldoria slip out of her the little one," she said, laying her hand upon his knee. "She will not enter." "It's not that so much," Blake said. to bring himself to go back and find out who they were and what they wanted. Hence he was as vexed with himself as he was with them. off a mind-tracker. It would have done her but little good if she had, for twelve years as a psycheye had taught Blake all the tricks. Probably she had taken it for granted that the mere act of hiding out where Blake had lived at a much later date. In reality, the places were and watching till Blake died and the conglomeration of place-times that constituted Blake's mind-world ceased to be. Ironically, he was crash several years ago—and for a long while Blake did not move. drawing of Vera Velvetskin, the company's blond and chic visual symbol, preparing a meal she had served twenty-three years ago. He regarded her with moist eyes. She had died a dozen years before his father, but the wound that her death had caused had never healed. He wanted to go up behind her and touch her shoulder and say, "What's for supper, mom?" but he knew it would do no good. For her he had no reality, not only close enough for him to be able to see that two of them were wearing Not the campus of the university which he had visited two days ago to attend his protegee's graduation. It was not a place-time that he cared to revisit, nor a moment that he cared to relive, but Sabrina's trail led straight across the artificially stunted grass toward the little bench where he and Deirdre Eldoria had come to talk after the ceremony was over. He had no choice. The bench stood beneath a towering American elm whose feathery branches slightly deeper than its predecessors indicated that Sabrina had paused by the trunk. Despite himself Blake paused there too. Pain tightened his throat when he looked at Deirdre's delicate profile and copper-colored hair, intensified when he lowered his eyes to the remembered blueness of her graduation dress. The diamond brooch that he had given her as a graduation present, and which she had proudly pinned upon her bodice for the whole wide world to see, made him want to cry. His self-image of two weeks ago shocked him. There were lines on the face that did not as yet exist, and the brown hair was shot with been feeling old to have pictured himself like that! Deirdre was speaking. "Yes," she was saying, "at nine o'clock. And I should very much like for you to come." Blake Past shook his head. "Proms aren't for parents. You know that as well as I do. That young man you were talking with a few minutes ago—he's the one who should take you. He'd give his right arm for the chance." "I'll thank you not to imply that you're my father. One would think from the way you talk that you are centuries old!" "I'm thirty-eight," Blake Past said, "and while I may not be your father, I'm certainly old enough to be. That young man—" A pink flush of anger climbed into Deirdre Eldoria's girlish cheeks. "What right has he he scrimp and go without in order to put me through high school and college? Has "Please," Blake Past said, desperation deepening his voice. "You're only making everything worse. After majoring in Trevorism, you certainly ought to realize by now that there was nothing noble about my buying you after Eldoria died. I only did it to ease my conscience—" "What do you know about conscience?" Deirdre demanded. "Conscience is a much more complex mechanism than most laymen realize. Guilt feelings aren't reliable criteria. They can stem from false causes—from ridiculous things like a person's inability to accept himself for what he is." Abruptly she dropped the subject. "Don't you Blake Past stood up too. "No, not yet. I'll walk back to the sorority house with you." She tossed her head, but the sadness in her tarn-blue eyes belied her halls of learning that showed in the distance. There had been other people present on the campus that afternoon, but as they had failed to register on Blake Past's mind, they did not exist for Blake Present. All that existed for Blake Present were the diminishing figures of the Standing next to her in a familiar blue uniform was Officer Finch, the police woman who had maintained law and order in the collective blond and chic Vera Velvetskin, whose picture he had seen on box after Miss Stoddart nor Officer Finch ever particularly liked him, but they eyes. More shocking yet, Vera Velvetskin, who had never existed save well-adjusted as he considered himself to be. The three women standing said Officer Finch. "And sought sanctuary in ill-fitting robes of unison: "You know who we are, Nathan Blake. The discovery came about quite by accident. After projecting himself into a patient's memory one day, a psychologist named Trevor suddenly found himself clinging to the slope of a traumatically distorted It was inevitable that Trevor should write a book about his discovery and set about founding a new school of psychology. It was equally inevitable that he should acquire enemies as well as disciples. However, as the years passed and the new therapy which he devised cured for millennia—the ability to project oneself into a past moment—or, to use Trevor's term, a past "place-time." Considerable practice was required before the first transition could be achieved, but once it Even this action wouldn't have given her away, however, if the office hadn't constituted a sentimental memory. Whenever Blake accepted a case done so after accepting his case—or was it before? He couldn't quite remember—the mental picture that had come into his mind had revealed open drawers, scattered papers and a general air of disarray. Only two things bothered Blake. The little office was far in his past, and it was unlikely that anyone save the few intimate acquaintances own mind had created a walking-talking Virgin Mary who watched over to create. Therefore, even assuming that Blake was less well-adjusted than he considered himself to be, why had he created three such malevolent super-images as Miss Stoddart, Officer Finch, and Vera Velvetskin? Sabrina York must have been attracted to the place, for her footprints reason for Blake to linger. As a matter of fact, the fascination that had brought the place into being had been replaced by an illogical repugnance. But repugnance can sometimes be as compelling a force as fascination, and Blake not only lingered but went inside as well.

<question>:
Why did Blake create the three female super-images of Miss Stoddart, Officer Finch, and Vera Velvetskin?

<options>:
A He feels guilty about having slept with Eldoria which perpetuated the demand for female prostitution.
B Even though he is a psycheye, he feels guilty about hunting down Sabrina York.
C He is still grieving his mother's death and regrets not being a more loving son.
D He feels guilty about hurting Deirdre's feelings after her graduation when he ignored their romantic connection, and instead, played the part of a parent.

<answer>:

D