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

<passage>:
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] A fearsome thing is a thing you're afraid of—and it has nothing whatever to do with whether others are afraid, nor with whether it is in fact dangerous. It's your view of the matter that counts! There was a dizzy, sickening whirl of mental blackness—not true blackness, but a mind-enveloping darkness that was filled with the multi-colored little sparks of thoughts and memories that scattered through the darkness like tiny glowing mice, fleeing from something unknown, fleeing outwards and away toward a somewhere that was equally the frightened little things together as they drifted back in from vast The process was far from complete when Broom regained consciousness. Broom sat up abruptly and looked around him. The room was totally What? He rubbed his head and looked around more carefully. It was not just heavy, a big-boned frame covered with hard, well-trained muscles. His hair and beard were a dark blond, and rather shaggy because of the time he'd spent in prison. Prison! Yes, he'd been in prison. The rough clothing he was wearing was certainly nothing like the type of dress he was used to. He tried to force his memory to give him the information he was looking he was sure of that. 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 before. He looked down at the floor. It was soft, almost as soft as a 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 wall away from the door table was no more wood than the wall, and a touch of a finger to the The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of The humming appeared to be coming from a metal box on the other side of He reached out a tentative finger and touched one of the symbol-marked Time? What had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a which direction? Toward the future, obviously plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside And what a city! At first, it was difficult for his eyes to convey their impressions intelligently to his brain. What they were recording was so unfamiliar that his brain could not decode the messages they sent. he could see, and beyond them, flittering fairy bridges rose into the 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, He skirted the table with its still-humming machine and walked toward unfamiliar, outlandish clothing, but Broom had seen odder clothing in reflecting the face of a man who stood invisibly before it. It wasn't, of course chair. Broom's footsteps sounded loud in the room, the echoes rebounding from the walls. He stopped and looked down. This floor wasn't covered than the carpet it had a kind of queer resiliency of its own. well lit. For the first time, he thought of the possibility that there that he had a weapon of some kind. Even a knife would have made him feel better. But there had been no chance of that, of course. Prisoners of war are hardly allowed to carry weapons with them, so none had been available. trapped in this strange, silent room. He could see a light shining through a door at the far end of the room—perhaps it was a way out. He he moved. they might tell him where he was. 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, 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 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. He had the terrible feeling that he had been drawn across time to this 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. Contarini, the short, wiry little Italian who was in the next cell, looked at him through the narrow opening. "I still think it can be done, The body experiences, but does not see. Only the soul is capable of knowing eternity." Broom outranked the little Italian, but prison can make brothers of all men. "You think it's possible then, to get out of a place like this, simply by thinking about it?" Broom held back a grin. "Then why, my Venetian friend, have you not left this place long since?" "I try," Contarini had said simply, "but I cannot do it. You wish to die. This does not frighten me, death. I am not afraid of what men may do to me." He stopped and frowned. "But, of this, I have a great fear. Only a saint can handle such things, and I am "I hope, my dear Contarini," Broom said dryly, "that you are not under "Oh, I have no doubt that you could do it, if you but would. And then, perhaps, when you are free, you would free me—for teaching you all I know to accomplish this. My fear holds me chained here, but you have no chains of fear." Broom had thought that over for a moment, then grinned. "All right, my I'll try it. What's your first lesson?" The memory faded from Broom's mind. Had he really moved through some segment of Eternity to reach this ... this place? Had he— He felt a chill run through him. What was he doing here? How could he have taken it all so calmly. Afraid of man or devil, no—but this was 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 doorway of the office. his clothes. He was not as tall as Broom, and he looked soft and the tenseness in his voice betrayed his fear. Broom relaxed. He had "I won't hurt you," Broom said. "I had no intention of intruding on your property, but all I ask is help." The little man was blinking and backing away, as though he were going to 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 scattered again during the passage through centuries of time came back Richard Broom sat up on his palette of straw. The scene in the strange why I had gone to that ... that place. And when I remembered, I came may be reluctant to raise the money." "What? Would England hesitate to ransom the brave king who has fought so gallantly in the Holy Crusades? Never! You will be free, my friend." held in his hand, the fear still in his heart. Men would still call him "Lion-hearted," but he knew that he would never again deserve the title. And, nearly eight centuries away in time and thousands of miles away in holding that in his hand when I saw him. What? Oh. Where did he go?" Mr. "But I think you can pick him up if you hurry. With that getup on, he THE END

<question>:
Where is Broom in the beginning of the story?

<options>:
A An office
B A mental hospital
C An apartment building
D A prison

<answer>:

A