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

<passage>:
She prayed that a God would come from the skies and carry her away to bright adventures. But faint and wistful sigh. One of the voices mourned, in the twittering Venusian speech, "How I envy you, Koroby! I wish I were being married tonight, like you!" Koroby stared defiantly at the laughing faces of her bridesmaids. She shrugged hopelessly. "I don't care," she said slowly. "It will be nice to have Yasak for a husband—yes. And perhaps I do love him. I don't know." She tightened her lips as she reflected on it. She left them, moving gracefully to the door. Venus-girls were seemed incapable of the slightest exertion. But Koroby's body was—compared to her friends'—voluptuous. She rested against the door-frame, watching the red of the afterglow deepen to purple. "I want romance," she said, so softly that the girls had to strain forward to hear her. "I wish that there were other worlds than this—and that someone would drop out of the skies and claim me ... and take me away from here, away from all this—this monotony!" She turned back to her friends, went to them, one of her hands, patting the mirror, and her lips parted in an irreprehensible smile. She trilled softly to herself, "Yes, I am beautiful tonight—the loveliest woman Yasak will ever see!" And then, regretfully, sullenly, "But oh, if only Koroby twirled before the mirror, criticizing her appearance. "Yes, ready," she said. "Shall we go now?" Koroby asked, and the litter-carrier nodded. Koroby kissed the girls, one after another. "Here, Shonka—you can have this bracelet you've always liked. And this is for you, Lolla. And here, Trossa—and you, Shia. Goodbye, darlings, goodbye—come and see me whenever you can!" "Goodbye, Koroby!" "Goodbye! Goodbye!" They crowded around her, embracing, babbling farewells, shreds of advice. Trossa began to cry. Finally Koroby broke away from them, went to the door. She took a last look at the interior a wedding-conveyance. The winking lights were enclosed in shells of colored glass for another reason—the danger of their firing the papery old litter that Koroby had been watching come and go ever since she She had wondered, watching it pass, whether its cushioned floor was soft, and now, as she stepped into the litter, she patted the padding experimentally. Yes, it was soft .... And fragrant, too—a shade too fragrant. It smelled stale, hinting of other occupants, other brides being borne to other weddings.... Garlands of flowers occupied a good deal of space in it. Settled among them, she felt like a bird in a strange nest. She leaned back among them "You're comfortable?" the litter bearer asked. Koroby nodded, and the Koroby fingered the flowers around her throat, her eyes rapt on the and again, "Oh, if only—!" But the music trickled on, and nothing happened along, and Koroby heard one of the bearers exclaim gruffly, "Listen!" Koroby peered out. "A Koroby lifted a hand. "Stop the litter," she said. The conveyance halted. Koroby leaning out, the men peering around them, There was a babble of voices as the musicians crowded together, asking what had it been, and where—just exactly—could one suppose it had happened, that thunder—was it going to storm! shining steadily, green as the flashes had been. Noticing it, Koroby Suddenly Koroby reached out, tapped the shoulder of the closet bearer. "I don't care," she said. "Take me there." Her order had reached the others' ears, and they slowed their pace. Koroby stepped out to the path, straightened up, her eyes on the glow. "You can't do that!" a carrier cried. "Well, then, you take me," she said over her shoulder. Grumbling, they bent to the conveyance's poles, and Koroby lithely slipped to the cushions. They turned off the path, plodded through the bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them. They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and rumpled Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva, whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her heart faltered: she swayed with bliss. The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And Koroby watched him, forgot her fear, and went eagerly to him, took his "The vehicle by which I came here from a land beyond the sky," he said. She had no concept of stars or space, and he could not fully explain. "From a world known as Terra." She was silent a moment, stunned. So there was another world! Then she asked, "Is it far? Have you come to take me there?" Here the similarity between her dream and actual experience ended. What was he thinking as he eyed her for a long moment? She had no way whisper. They watched the melting globe sag on the sand. Then Koroby Koroby cut him short. "What's your name?" have a personal problem now," he said, making a peculiar sound that was not quite a sigh. "Here I am stranded on Venus, my ship utterly wrecked, and I'm due at the Reisezek Convention in two weeks. You"—he gripped Koroby's shoulder, and his strength made her wince—"tell me, said to Koroby, "I realize from the pictures in your mind that there litter bearers and Koroby could barely drag themselves with him. The He handed the stick to Koroby, but she was afraid to touch it. This was a strange light that gave no heat, nor flickered in the breeze. Finally she accepted it from him, but carried it gingerly at arm's length. But at last she could go no farther. She had forced herself along because she wanted to impress this indifferent man that she was not as inferior as he might think—but now she could not go on. With a little cry almost of relief, she sank to the ground and lay semi-conscious, so weary that the very pain of it seemed on the point of pleasure. Robert dipped down, scooped her up, and carried her. Lights glimmered ahead shouts reached them. It was a searching party, the hall." "Fetch me something to wear—that's good enough," the girl accepted the that we both flew away in it. Yasak had to stay behind, and he was furious. Robert! Aren't you listening?" sprang at him. "You'll hurt yourself," he admonished kindly, and after she had emotions—I was never allowed them. But it is an esthetic regret.... I must go back to my wrecked ship now and arrange the signals there." He did not wait for her leave, but strode out of the room. Koroby huddled on a chair, sobbing. Then she dried her eyes on the the armor-rack at the main hall on her way outside, and snatched up a him like the spreading wake of a boat. Koroby stood on tip-toe, waving Koroby reached the City wall, panted through the gate into a shrieking crowd. Someone grasped her roughly—she was too breathless to do more

<question>:
What did Koroby think of the vehicle she took to her wedding?

<options>:
A It was carved by craftspeople and painted delicately
B It was old and musty
C It smelled beautifully of flower garlands
D It was delightful for her to finally ride in a space ship to her wedding

<answer>:

B