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

<passage>:
Mr. Jonathon Chambers left his house on Maple Street at exactly seven o'clock in the evening and set out on the daily walk he had taken, at the same time, come rain or snow, for twenty solid years. The walk never varied. He paced two blocks down Maple Street, stopped at the Red Star confectionery to buy a Rose Trofero home. He didn't walk fast. He took his time. He always returned to his front door at exactly 7:45. No one ever stopped to talk with him. Even the man at the Red Star confectionery, where he bought Like an automaton he turned again and paced to the hall door. his cigar, remained silent while the purchase was being made. Mr. Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner. For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be Chambers took his cigar. That was all. revolutionary to cost Mr. Chambers his post at the university. October wind was rustling the dead leaves when Mr. Chambers started out at seven o'clock. It was a good night, he told himself, smelling the clean, crisp air of autumn and the faint pungence of distant wood smoke. He walked unhurriedly, swinging his cane a bit less jauntily than twenty years ago. He tucked the muffler more securely under the rusty old topcoat and pulled his bowler hat more firmly on his Jefferson was out and he grumbled a little to himself when he was forced to step off the walk to circle a boarded-off section of a bit too quickly, but he told himself that this couldn't be. For he never did that. For twenty years, since the year following his expulsion from the university, he had lived by the clock. The same thing, at the same time, day after day. He had not deliberately set upon such a life of routine. A bachelor, living alone with sufficient money to supply his humble needs, the timed existence had grown on him gradually. Mr. Chambers turned his eyes back into the room. The clock was snarling and growling, snapping at his heels. But Mr. Chambers pretended not to notice and the beast gave up the chase. was blurting floated to Mr. Chambers. "Oh, well," said Mr. Chambers, "I never did like that very well." The wind whipped the muted words away and Mr. Chambers grumbled Mr. Chambers had written. off the irresistible march of nothingness. One man, all alone, simply couldn't do it. But as Mr. Chambers neared them they fell into what seemed an abashed silence and watched him pass. He, on his part, gave them no sign of recognition. That was the way it had been for many years, ever since the people had become convinced that he did not wish to talk. then stepped back and Mr. Chambers continued on his walk. Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first He leaped from his chair and then sat down again. The clock hadn't stopped. He started violently. It was only 7:30! It wasn't there. There was a tingling sensation in his feet. audibly. But 15 minutes too soon! For twenty years, day in, day out, he had started out at seven and returned at a quarter of eight. Now.... It wasn't until then that he realized something else was wrong. pocket. Shaken, muttering to himself, Mr. Chambers let himself in his But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had bounded by four city blocks by three. Beyond them lay utter, unexplainable terror. Beyond them he never went. But recluse though he was, he could not on occasion escape from To him they simply did not matter. But there were two things tonight that did matter. Two curious, incredible events. He had arrived home fifteen minutes early. He had forgotten his cigar. Further reverie became an effort as Mr. Chambers felt himself succumbing to weariness. He undressed and went to bed. For an hour he lay awake, assailed by vague fears he could neither neither see nor hear, but only could imagine. And as he sought to flee he stayed in the one place. His legs worked frantically, pumping like pistons, but he could make no progress. It was as if he ran upon a treadway. Then again the terror descended on him, a black, unimagined thing and he tried to scream and couldn't. He opened his mouth and strained his vocal cords and filled his lungs to bursting with the urge to shriek ... but not a sound came from his lips. All next day he was uneasy and as he left the house that evening, at precisely seven o'clock, he kept saying to himself: "You must not forget tonight! You must remember to stop and get your cigar!" next block. I must not forget tonight. To forget twice in a row would be just too much. He grasped that thought firmly in his mind, strode just a bit more rapidly down the street. But at the corner he stopped in consternation. Bewildered, he stared down the next block. There was no neon sign, no splash of Grant. Or had he, absent-mindedly, come one block farther than he thought, passed the store as on the night before? For the first time in twenty years, Mr. Chambers retraced his had disappeared! Now he understood why he had missed the store on the night before, why he had arrived home fifteen minutes early. On legs that were dead things he stumbled back to his home. He slammed and locked the door behind him and made his way unsteadily to his chair in the corner. Mr. Chambers shivered, reached to turn up the collar of his coat, There was something back of this, Mr. Chambers told himself. The pendulum clock struck slowly, its every other chime as usual Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and With a sigh of relief, Mr. Chambers turned back into the hall. Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it He awoke, body drenched with perspiration. Vague light of early The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers looked. Mr. Chambers was sure of that. too might right itself. But Mr. Chambers was very weary. Too later he arose and almost ran across the room to the old mahogany that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered. Abruptly Mr. Chambers closed the book, shoved it back in the case and picked up his hat and coat. He had to know more. He had to find someone who could tell him. He moved through the hall to the door, emerged into the street. On the walk he looked skyward, trying to make out the sun. But seemed devoid of life, of any movement. The walk led to his gate and there it ended, but as he moved forward the sidewalk came into view and the house ahead loomed out of the gray, but a house with differences. He moved forward rapidly. Visibility extended only a few feet and as Once he stopped and looked back and saw that the grayness had closed in behind him. The houses were wiped out, the sidewalk faded into nothing. He shouted, hoping to attract attention. But his voice frightened the curb, he stopped and stared. The gray wall was thicker there but he did not realize how close it was until he glanced down at With a wild cry, Mr. Chambers turned and ran. Back down the street he raced, coat streaming after him in the wind, bowler hat bouncing on his head. Panting, he reached the gate and stumbled up the walk, thankful that it still was there. On the stoop he stood for a moment, breathing hard. He glanced Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not Without removing his hat and coat, he sank exhausted in his Could it be that he was going mad? He had heard whispers when he had passed, whispers the gossiping housewives had not intended him to hear. And he had heard the shouting of boys when he walked

<question>:
Why did Mr. Chambers return early from his walk?

<options>:
A He did not stop at the drug store to watch the news
B One of the streets had completely disappeared
C He took a different turn than usual
D He walked faster than normal to avoid the crowds

<answer>:

B