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

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Manet just didn't know when to stop! William Manet was alone. In the beginning, he had seen many advantages to being alone. It would give him an unprecedented opportunity to once and for all correlate loneliness to the point of madness, to see how long it would take him to start slavering and clawing the pin-ups from the magazines, to begin teaching himself classes in philosophy consisting of interminable lectures to a bored and captive audience of one. Every lonely man tries to make friends. Manet gave one final spurt from the flesh-sprayer and stood back. But after a shorter time than he expected, it all got to be a tearing bore. Even the waiting to go crazy part of it. Not that he was going to have any great long wait of it. He was already talking to himself, making verbal notes for his lectures, and he had As the device twisted as handily as good intentions, Manet realized Loneliness was a physical weight on his skull. It peeled the flesh from his arms and legs and sandpapered his self-pity to a fine sensitivity. No one on Earth was as lonely as William Manet, and even William Manet Manet was Atmosphere Seeder Station 131-47's own human. All Manet had to do was sit in the beating aluminum heart in the middle Manet felt nothing more at this information than an esthetic pleasure isolate themselves in a useless job. They got, instead, William Manet "What's so bad about that?" Manet asked with some interest. Manet suspected hallucination, but in an existence with all the pallid dispassion of a requited love he was happy to welcome dementia. Sometimes he even manufactured it. Sometimes he would run through the arteries of the factory and play that it had suddenly gone mad hating as the Engineers' Thumb and bale up the pressure-dehydrated digest, making so much stall flooring of him. He ran until he dropped with a kind of climaxing release of terror. So Manet put on the pressure suit he had been given because he would me suffer?" " know. You're too human, too like me. The one thing a man can't accept is a passive state, a state of uselessness. Not if he can possibly avoid it. Something has to be happening to him. He has to be happening to something. You didn't kill me because then you would have nothing left to do. You'll never kill "Rationalization. You don't want to kill me. And you can't stop challenging me at every turn. That's your function." "Stop talking and just think about your miserable life," Victor said meanly. "Your friends won't grow and mature with you. You won't make any new friends. You'll have me to constantly remind you of your uselessness, your constant unrelenting sterility of purpose. How's that for boredom, for passiveness?" "That's what I'm trying to tell you," Manet said irritably, his social manners rusty. "I won't be bored. You will see to that. It's your purpose. You'll be a challenge, an obstacle, a source of triumph every "I don't believe you," Manet stated flatly. His conversation had grown Manet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed to have been polished clean. "What do you have to offer?" "Whatever you want?" Irritably, "How do I know what I want until I know what you have?" "You know." Manet gave in to it. "I want to be not alone," he said. "It is commercialized," Trader Tom admitted with no little chagrin. "It is presented to appeal to a twelve-year-old child, an erotic, aggressive twelve-year-old, the typical sensie goer—but that is reality. It offends men of good taste like ourselves, yet sometimes it Manet didn't open the box. He let it fade quietly in the filtered but taste of the station out of his mouth in the mornings, talking to himself, winking at Annie Oakley, and waiting to go mad. Finally, Manet woke up one morning. He lay in the sheets of his bunk, suppressing the urge to go wash his hands, and came at last to the conclusion that, after all the delay, he was mad. Manet opened the book and, turning one blank page, found the title . Manet tried to flip past this Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him. Cheerful. Submissive. Co-operative. Manet had selected these factors in Intelligence was one of the factors Manet had punched to suppress. any more than Manet, but he could (and did) know less. He had seen to leisurely combats of World War One." "I know." Manet knew it all. He had heard it all before. ad nauseum . What a narrow band of interests! With the whole universe to explore in thought and concept, why did he have to be trapped with such an unoriginal human being? Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his "Had enough?" he asked Manet. Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury. Manet's eyes orbitted towards the checkerboard. But if he were so much more stupid than he, Manet, why was it that Manet lay stretched out on his back, naked, in front of the transparent For a moment he gloried in the blatant display of his flabby muscles and patchy sunburn. It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the discussion as to how long it will require to complete the present schedule—" there was of course no "K" sound in the word—"for home, or not particularly bad if you are counting on drawing your handsome salary for the time spent on Mars. We have every reason to Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber hammering at the hatch. Then he might start pounding with his head. Perhaps before the time was up he would have worn himself down to nothing whatsoever. Manet selected the ripple-finished gray-covered manual from the hodgepodge, and thought: eighteen years. Perhaps I should have begun here, he told himself. But I really don't have as much interest in that sort of thing as the earthier types. Simple companionship was all I wanted. And, he thought on, even an insipid personality like Ronald's would be bearable with certain compensations. Manet folded his arms stoically and added: "Please don't talk." Manet elbowed Veronica away in a gentlemanly fashion. "Whenever you say." He stood up and began pacing off the dimensions of the compartment. There was no doubt about it: he had been missing his regular exercise. less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald. Ronald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the "Shut up!" Manet yelled. The voice dwindled stubbornly, then cut off. A silence with a whisper of metallic ring to it. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Maybe because he secretly took seemed a trifle chapped. But that probably came not from all the shouting but from having nothing to drink for some months. Ronald didn't say anything to Manet. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?" Manet demanded. "I'm going to lock you up in here, and leave you for a day, a month, a year, forever! Now what do you think about that?" "If you think it's the Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of Manet giggled. "What? What was that? Do you suggest that I take you He went down the corridor, giggling. He giggled and thought: This will never do. diligently, Manet concluded that there weren't enough parts left in the

<question>:
What is NOT one of the reasons Manet wanted to be alone?

<options>:
A To be able to practice poor hygiene
B To see how long it would take to go mad
C To compare peace and war
D To feel bored

<answer>:

D