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

<passage>:
mind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too much of one—and also too much of the other! "Sorry, darling," said Erica. She yawned, added, "I've tried—but I just can't believe you're my husband." He felt his own yawn slip off his face. "What do you mean? What am I doing here then?" "Can't you remember?" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and sat up. "They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must have been wrong." "Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake," he said with a certainty "Of course, but...." He did some verbal backstepping. "It was a bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same at first." He sat up. " ." "I wish you could." Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why. "My name is Dan Merrol." "They told you that at the hospital." They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the felt like Dan Merrol. Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her name to himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'd Did that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression on her face, it did. "You've got to expect me to be confused in the beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?" ! You don't have the same personality at all." She glanced at her arm. There was a bruise on it. "Did I do that?" he asked. "You did, though I'm sure you didn't mean to. I don't think you realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle—he must have been afraid of me. And you "It's not just that, darling. Go over to the mirror." He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He got up and walked unsteadily to the mirror. "Now what?" He did—it was a mark level with his chin. "What does it mean?" "That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head," she said softly. He was a good six inches taller than he ought to be. But there must be some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs. 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 an involuntary clown, a physical buffoon that Mother Nature hadn't duplicated since Man began? He felt the stubble on his face with his left hand—he thought that arm was unexpectedly different. 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 of her body and the circus comedy of his own. "Difficult, isn't it?" she said, tugging her bra together and closing 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 scrambled face, to the mismatched lumps and limbs and shapes that, stretching the term, currently formed his body. It was clear what he He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total effect was better than he had dared hope it would be. True, he did look different . Erica gazed at him with melancholy affection. "I can't understand why they let you out wearing those clothes—or for that matter, why they let you out at all." face." It was the clothes, plus the brief glimpse of his face, which had made her think she recognized him when he came in. "They told me you'd have to have psychotherapy and I'd have to have He'd been unnecessarily rough, but that could be ascribed to lack of coordination. She could have been terrified, might have resisted—but she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock. She was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his initiative is more important than perfect health." "Strange," she muttered. "But you are very strong." She looked at him and blushed. "Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some, wherever he is." 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 never happen to him. He'd better leave now while she was distracted and He wanted to protest, but didn't. Maybe it was the hand she was 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 insecure? Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was that due to? wasn't sure any longer, although he had been. On the physical side of marriage, how could he ask her to share a body she'd have to laugh at? Later, he might tell her, if there was to be a 'later.' He pushed back "You'll have to put me down," she said, averting her eyes. "Otherwise.... You're an intolerable funny man." He knew it—he could see himself in the mirror. He was something to laugh at when anyone got tired of pretending sympathy. He put her down "The director—Doctor Crander. I don't have an appointment." "Then the director can't see you." The girl looked up and her firmly polite expression became a grimace of barely suppressed laughter. Then laughter was swept away. What replaced it he couldn't say, but it "Glad to see you," said Doctor Crander, behind the desk. He was nervous Dan Merrol." Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little Dan Merrol?" The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. "Of course. I didn't expect that you'd come walking in my office—that's why I didn't Without waiting for him to comply, Crander pushed him into a chair and Finally Crander seemed satisfied. "Excellent," he said. "If I didn't 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?" Crander eyed him clinically. "We don't ordinarily do this—but it is before she could reel it in, her gaze swept past Dan, hesitated and returned to him. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a nervous goldfish and she darted from the room. was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a The mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had 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, Crander's eyebrows bounced up. "We're amazed at how well we have The doctor seized it. "Beautiful, isn't it?" "Perhaps—taken by itself." Dan rolled up his sleeve. "See how it joins Crander waggled it gravely. "It coordinates perfectly. I've observed The other just didn't understand. "But the size—it doesn't match my arm!" "Doesn't Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket. Crander stared at a crack in the ceiling. "Further recovery will take Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica

<question>:
How does Dr. Crander feel about his surgery on Dan?

<options>:
A He is proud of his accomplishment
B He did well, but not as well as a previous patient
C He wishes that he could have done better
D He is embarrassed of how Dan looks

<answer>:

A