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

<passage>:
unknown The process was far from complete when Broom regained consciousness. shouldn't the room look odd, after he had gone through— What? He rubbed his head and looked around more carefully. It was not just that the room itself was unfamiliar as a whole aware that only the pattern was different, not the details. He sat there on the floor and took stock of himself and his Prison! Yes, he'd been in prison. The rough clothing he was wearing was Meanwhile, where the devil was he? From where he was sitting, he could see that the room was fairly large, but not extraordinarily so. A door in one wall led into another room of about the same size. But they were like no other rooms he had ever seen bed, covered with a thick, even, resilient layer of fine material of some kind. It was some sort of carpeting that covered the floor from felt fine, except for the gaps in his memory. The room was well lit. The illumination came from the ceiling, which seemed to be made of some glowing, semitranslucent metal that cast a shadowless glow over everything. There was a large, bulky table near the wall away from the door it looked almost normal, except that the objects on it were like nothing that had ever existed. Their purposes were unknown, and their shapes meaningless. He jerked his head away, not wanting to look at the things on the table. The walls, at least, looked familiar. They seemed to be paneled in some fine wood. He walked over and touched it. And knew immediately that, no matter what it looked like, it wasn't He turned around again and looked deliberately at the big, bulky table. There was a faint humming noise coming from it which had escaped his table was no more wood than the wall, and a touch of a finger to the surface verified the decision. The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of the table. He circled around and took a look at the thing. It had levers and knobs and other projections, but their functions were not immediately discernible. There were several rows of studs with various unrecognizable symbols on them. This would certainly be something to tell in London—when and if he ever Time? What had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a ... something else. What? plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get would come back, and he could orient himself. Meanwhile, he might as well explore his surroundings a little more. He resolved to keep his hands off anything that wasn't readily identifiable. There was a single oddly-shaped chair by the bulky table, and behind the chair was a heavy curtain which apparently covered a window. He could Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside the building he was in. He stepped over, parted the curtains, and— —And gasped! It was night time outside, and the sky was clear. He recognized the clouds if there had been any clouds. Broom backed away from the window and let the curtain close. He'd had all of that he could take for right now. The inside of the building, his immediate surroundings, looked almost homey after seeing that monstrous, endless city outside. He skirted the table with its still-humming machine and walked toward the door that led to the other room. A picture hanging on a nearby wall caught his eye, and he stopped. It was a portrait of a man in unfamiliar, outlandish clothing, but Broom had seen odder clothing in eyes of the man were focused directly on him. Broom decided he didn't like the effect at all, and hurried into the next room. There were several rows of the bulky tables in here, each with its own chair. Broom's footsteps sounded loud in the room, the echoes rebounding might be composed of tile of some kind. And yet, though it was harder than the carpet it had a kind of queer resiliency of its own. The room itself was larger than the one he had just quitted, and not as well lit. For the first time, he thought of the possibility that there might be someone else here besides himself. He looked around, wishing locked. There was a tiny vertical slit set in a small metal panel in the door, but it was much too tiny to be a keyhole. Still— It didn't matter. If necessary, he could smash the glass to get through the door. He stepped out into what was obviously a hallway beyond the door. The hallway stretched away to either side, lined with doors similar to the one he had just come through. How did a man get out of this place, anyway? The door behind him was pressing against his hand with a patient insistence, as though it wanted to close itself. He almost let it close, but, at the last second, he changed his mind. Better the devil we know than the devil we don't , he thought to himself. He went back into the office and looked around for something to prop the door open. He found a small, beautifully formed porcelain dish on one of the desks, picked it up, and went back to the door. The dish held the door open an inch or so. That was good enough. If someone locked the door, he could still smash in the glass if he wanted to, but the absence of the dish when he returned would tell him that he was not alone in this mysterious place. He started down the hallway to his right, checking the doors as he went. They were all locked. He knew that he could break into any of them, but he had a feeling that he would find no exit through any of them. They all looked as though they concealed more of the big rooms. place for a purpose, and yet he could think of no rational reason for believing so. He stopped as another memory came back. He remembered being in the stone-walled dungeon, with its smelly straw beds, lit only by the faint shaft of sunlight that came from the barred window high overhead. knowing eternity." Broom outranked the little Italian, but prison can make brothers of all Broom held back a grin. "Then why, my Venetian friend, have you not left "Afraid?" Broom raised an eyebrow. He had seen Contarini on the "I hope, my dear Contarini," Broom said dryly, "that you are not under Broom had thought that over for a moment, then grinned. "All right, my The memory faded from Broom's mind. Had he really moved through some got back to the place where he had appeared in this world, perhaps—somehow—some force would return him to where he belonged. The door was as he had left it, the porcelain dish still in place. He scooped up the dish in one big hand and ran on into the room, letting the door shut itself behind him. He ran on, through the large room with Broom's eyes opened, and instantly every muscle and nerve in his hard-trained body tensed for action. There was a man standing in the doorway of the office. He was not a particularly impressive man, in spite of the queer cut of his clothes. He was not as tall as Broom, and he looked soft and turn and bolt at any moment. Broom laughed. "You have nothing to fear from me, little man. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Richard Broom, known as—" He stopped, and his eyes widened. Total memory flooded over him as he realized fully who he was and where he belonged. gone. Of that there can be no doubt. Why did you return?" Richard Broom sat up on his palette of straw. The scene in the strange And, nearly eight centuries away in time and thousands of miles away in space, a Mr. Edward Jasperson was speaking hurriedly into the telephone that stood by the electric typewriter on his desk. "That's right, Officer Suite 8601, Empire State Building. I was working late, and I left the lights on in my office when I went out to get a cup of coffee. When I came back, he was here—a big, bearded man, wearing a thing that looked like a monk's robe made out of gunny sack. What? No, I locked the door when I left. What? Well, the only thing that's missing as far as I can tell is a ceramic ash tray from one of the desks he was holding that in his hand when I saw him. What? Oh. Where did he go?" Mr.

<question>:
What is referenced as the devil Broom knows?

<options>:
A Outside
B The past
C A knife
D The office

<answer>:

D