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

<passage>:
just can't believe you're my husband." sat up. "They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must highly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago. "I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original color scheme?" "It's a little thing," he said. "I'm lucky to be alive." He took her They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how he knew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't given He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. "Another lapse," he said gloomily and then brightened. "But I can tell you lots about myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera." "What's that?" "At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a musician and a first-rate mathematician. I can't remember any equations Did that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle—he must have He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs. —the snatch of an ancient song floated through his head. they were patching him up, did they really think he needed black, red and brown hair? He wondered how a beagle felt. What were they, a bunch of humorists? Did they, for comic effect, piece together a body out of bits and scraps left over from a chopping block? It was himself he was looking at, otherwise he'd say the results were neither hideous nor horrible, but merely—well, what? Ludicrous and He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, staring miserably at Erica as she began dressing. There was quite a contrast between the loveliness generally, though not around the chest. It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have been awfully busy to have so many careers in such a short time— and He wasn't as sure as she seemed to be now. Somehow, maybe he was still Dan Merrol—but he wasn't going to insist on it—not after looking at himself. Not after trying to sort out those damned memories. She was too kind, pretending to be a little attracted to him, to the that hung far over his fingertips on one side and basted it to the because of the theorem. You said you'd explain it this morning." She she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of physical complications." "That's new, isn't it?" she said. "I always thought they watched the and blushed. "Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some, Dan again, whether it was himself or another person. For a brief time, as she listened to him, he'd had the silly idea that.... But it could holding—it seemed to be equipped with a better set of nerves than its predecessor. It tingled at her touch. Sadly, he sat down and looked at his food. Eat? Did he want to eat? Oddly enough, he did. "How much do you remember of the accident?" She shoved aside her own food and sat watching him. Not a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word scrawled on it— accident —and that was where he'd got the idea. There had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He it was just a glimpse. I took their word when they said you were Dan At least he knew who or what Dan Merrol was—the pilot of the Mars liner. They had assumed he was the pilot because of where he was found, but he might have been tossed there—impact did strange things. Dan Merrol was a spaceship pilot and he hadn't included it among his skills. It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant. But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and insecure? Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was Even if he was sure, he didn't know whether he could tell her—and he "Wysocki's theorem," he told her. "The patient has decided to walk." motives. She was a warmhearted girl and couldn't help pitying him. the length of his thighs and lower legs, and the two rhythms could be reconciled. He swept along, gaining control of his muscles. He became aware that he was whizzing past everyone. He slowed down—he didn't want to attract attention. It was difficult but he learned to walk at a pedestrian pace. However poorly they'd matched his legs, they'd given him good ones. astray and got tangled with his fingers. "I just thought of a joke," she murmured. "Please don't think that I consider you at all funny." to a musician. Was there an instrument played with one hand? The other one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music. doctor. "That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. "Of course. I It seemed wiser to Dan not to tell him everything. "It was stuffy They had underestimated him, but he didn't mind. Of course, he didn't The doctor took his pulse. "Seems fine," he said, surprised. "Sit began hauling out a variety of instruments with which he poked about his bewildered patient. Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. "Granted you can identify me as the person who came out of regrowth—but does that mean I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?" mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. "You're our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of everything we did." various stages in surgery and finally, some taken from the files of the company for which you worked." Merrol winced. The photographic sequence was incontrovertible. He had been a handsome fellow. Merrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. "What is it?" "Mass-cell radiographs. One was loaned by your employer. The other was The mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed been no mistake—he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to understand why Erica couldn't believe he was her husband. "You did a fine job," he said. Recalling the picture of the wreckage, The doctor seized it. "Beautiful, isn't it?" ?" cried the doctor. "Do you have any idea of the research. "That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance." Merrol leaned away because Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket. learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they "Brain?" Dan was startled. Crander traced out five areas he could feel, but not see. "Samuel Kaufman, musician—Breed Mannly, cowboy actor—George Elkins, lepidopterist—Duke DeCaesares, wrestler—and Ben Eisenberg, mathematician, went into the places I tapped." Dan raised his head. Some things were clearer. The memories were

<question>:
Why did Dan believe that he was a lepidpoptera specialist?

<options>:
A He received a partial brain transplant from a lepidopterist
B He was repeating what the doctors from the hospital told him
C He was mis-remembering a former career
D He collected butterflies as a hobby

<answer>:

A