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

<passage>:
When he parted from her downtown, pausing a moment to watch her walk the shoulders and a skeptical growl. Just the same, he ducked his head requirements. I'd say he's a suitable recipient for the Gifts." "No—at least I question the last. After all, the Great Gifts aren't as "Besides what? Come on, spit it out!" The Invisible Being was the bluff, blunt type. "Well," said his less hearty but unswervingly honest companion, "I'm What Little Gifts would you suggest?" "That's something I want to talk about. Many of the Little Gifts are our Gifts—three Little, two Big, and one Great?" packet he'd placed on the coin-whitened glass between them. He gave a suspicious look, as if the customer had palmed them. "There they are," he said, dropping a coin beside them. Ernie Meeker went home and shaved. Five days—and shaves—later, he But there were still three blades in their waxed wrappings. Maybe, he thought, he'd still had one of the blades from the last packet and shuffled it into this series. them to, in accordance with their flimsy souls, he told himself at the barely conscious level. Men should die, hearts should break, girls should tell, nations perish, curtains get dirty, milk sour ... and The third morning, face lathered, he flipped open the razor and lifted porcupine quills. No, thanks." heard tinkle faintly down and away the first of the Little Gifts, the wonderingly, from tentacle to impatient tentacle. soda, preparatory to plunging the spoon into it, it seemed to him that the box said distinctly, in a small inward-outward voice: "No, no, no!" the porcelain finish of the washbowl as he laid it down. He held the box firmly in both hands and studied it. Size, shape, materials, blue color, closure, etc., were exactly as they Dissociates H 2 O into hemi-quasi-stable H and O, furnishing a serviceable fuel-and-oxydizer mix for most motorcycles, automobiles, trucks, motorboats, airplanes, stationary motors, torque-twisters, translators, and rockets (exhaust velocity up to 6000 meters per second). Operates safely within and outside of all normal atmospheres. No special adaptor needed on oxygenizer-atmosphere motors. Directions : Place one pinch in fuel tank, fill with water. Add water the end of a nailfile. He had thought of tasting it, but had instantly abandoned the notion and even refrained from sniffing the stuff—after all, the human body is mostly water. After reducing the quantity several times, he gingerly dumped at most the almost invisible white deposit. He closed the box, put it and the nailfile carefully on the window ledge, lit a match and touched it to the drop, at the last moment ducking his head a little below the level He cautiously explored the boundaries of the heat. It became noticeable about eighteen inches above the drop and almost an inch to each side—an invisible slim vertical cylinder. Crouching close, eyes level at it softly. It shimmied gracefully, but not, he thought, as much as the flame of a match or candle. It had character. He switched on the light. The drop was more than half gone now the He turned off the light again. The flame was a little shorter now and it shrank as he watched, about a quarter inch a second. As soon as it died, he switched on the light. The drop was gone. He scrubbed off the spot with a dry washrag, on second thought put a dab of vaseline on the washrag, scrubbed the spot again with that—he drains or touching any water. He folded the washrag, tucked it in his pocket, put the blue box—after a final check of the lettering—in his lunch." Ernie Meeker had discovered, inside the birthday box that was himself, the first of the Big Gifts. ultimately become a universe of squirming macaroni. Even the wallpaper he was staring at, which imitated the grain of wood, had in an instant in the bathroom. Like the thoughts of a drowning man, riffling an infinity-paneled adventure-comic of his life as he bolts his last rough ration of air. Or like the feeling a psychotic must have that he's on the verge of visualizing the whole universe, having its ultimate secrets patter down into the palm of his outstretched hand—just before the walls close in. good job on the sturdy remainder. Pretty soon the unbearable, edge-of-doom clarity in his mind faded, the universe-macaroni cooked down to a thick white soup uniform as fog, and the words of the detective story were sliding into his mind field on which it depended. For want of a better place, Ernie dropped the rubber tube from the bathtub spray into the scrub bucket half full of odorous pink fluid and until payday to gas up. Now he had used the tube to siphon out what he could of the remainder (he still could taste the stuff!) and he'd emptied the fuel line and carburator, more or less. and was relieved to find it still empty. He wished fervently, not for sighed, squared his shoulders a little, and lifted the box out of his Making to check the directions the umpteenth time, he received a body blue box. For a moment, he came very close to dropping the box between the bicarb? That circumstance seemed beyond imagination. Green flames ... vanishing letters ... "torque-twisters, translators" ... a box that talked.... At that point, simple faith came to Ernie's rescue: in the same it had burned his fingers. Quickly he dipped up a little of the white powder on the edge of a fifty-cent piece, dumped it in the gas tank without quibbling as to quantity, rapped the coin on the edge of the opening, closed and pocketed the blue box, and picked up the spurting hose and jabbed it "Ernie! Come on in and have breakfast!" spoiled, but a few minutes of silence brought it back. He thought of surprise and embarrassment. "That's one of the oldest swindles. They always tell this story about how this man had a white powder or something and demonstrated it once with a pail of water and then disappeared. You're supposed to believe that Detroit or the big oil companies got rid of him. It's just another of those malicious legends, concocted—by Russia, I imagine—to weaken your faith in American gets dull. You're looking pale, Ernie—don't tell me you've already put money in this white powder? I suppose someone's approached you with a proposition, though?" impassioned ninety-minute defense of big business, small business, prosperity, America, money, know-how, and a number of other As soon as the car pulled away from the curb on their way back to even seen the box fall out of the pocket of a suspicious-looking man or of going to the F.B.I. But just having the stuff drop into his hands from the sky, so to speak, as if in a crazy dream, and for that same reason not feeling able to talk about it and assure himself he wasn't going crazy ... oh, When he checked the blue box that night, the original sodium bicarbonate lettering had returned with all its humdrum paragraphs. Not one word about exhaust velocities. the morning for the act, but nevertheless as he was returning indoors He couldn't decide on a safe place to keep the box and took to carrying neatly furled short umbrella dangling from her wrist might better be a "No, Ernie, though you're doing it now," she told him, shaking her head. "No, Ernie, your eyes just give a tiny flash of their own about every five seconds, like a lighthouse, but barely, barely bright

<question>:
Where do the presents appear to go when Meeker is finished with them?

<options>:
A They disappear into a green flame
B He places them into the trash
C They are things that never run out
D They dissolve into thin air

<answer>:

C