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

<passage>:
mathematical prodigy, but dying of an incurable disease? She collected Earth coins." "Oh, that. Sure, I remember—Hey! You didn't!" "Yes. We made about a billion dollars on that one." he would get into trouble. But that was nothing compared to the trouble he would be in if he did not get into trouble! Matheny stared out the wall, his hands twisting nervously behind his had it been the chairman of the board?—back several thousand dollars. Then she pulled a lock of lion-colored hair down over one eye, checked with a mirror, rumpled it a tiny bit more and wrapped the robe loosely the secret wisdom of the Ancient Aliens? Now the incredibly powerful semantics of the Red Ankh (not a religious organization) is available to a select few—' That's our largest dollar-earning enterprise." He would have liked to say it was his suggestion originally, but it "Yes?" Matheny faced around, shivering with his own tension. Doran's thin sharp face grinned. "You break that date, Peri. Put it off his mineral collection, a faculty poker party on Tenthday night and an occasional trip to Swindletown— My God here I am, one solitary outlander in the greatest commercial empire the human race has ever seen, and I'm supposed to find my planet a con man! black culottes drew glances, but derisive ones: their cut was forty years out of date. He should find himself a hotel, he thought drearily, Republic forbade sumptuary and moral legislation quite apart from the rambunctious individualism which that document formulated, the article was a practical necessity. Life was bleak enough on the deserts, without being denied the pleasure of trying to bottom-deal some friend Matheny puffed smoke and looked around. His feet ached from the weight "I—I'm not hungry," stammered Matheny. "I just wanted to sit in—" "Hm?" said Matheny. "Oh—I see—excuse me, I, I, I—" Matheny backed out of the crowd, "Oh. Thanks. Thanks ever so much. I, I, that is—" Matheny cursed Matheny had yet heard. Matheny sighed. "A drink is what I need the very most." "I don't want to—I mean if you're busy tonight, Mr. Doran—" "We can't afford it," said Matheny. "What with gravitation and pleasure. Not to mention our dollar shortage." As they entered the just gazoo about it. A jewel dug out of the City of Time, like, made a million years ago by a, uh, extinct race ... I tell you, she appreciated me for it!" He winked and nudged. He felt a certain guilt. Doran was too pleasant a little man to deserve— "Of course," Matheny said ritually, "I agree with all the archeologists it's a crime to sell such scientifically priceless artifacts, but what can we do? We must live, and the tourist trade is almost nonexistent." their ticket expect some comfort and, uh, you know." "I do know," said Matheny. "But we're poor—a handful of people trying to make a world of dust and sand and scrub thorn into fields and woods Grill, on the 73rd Level. Matheny's jaw clanked down. Matheny followed Doran past a sign announcing that this show was for "What'll you have?" asked Doran. "It's on me." "Oh, I couldn't let you. I mean—" Matheny shuddered. "Good Lord, no!" "Huh? But they make thyle right on Mars, don't they?" "Yes. And it all goes to Earth and sells at 2000 dollars a fifth. But you don't think we'd drink know, all my life I've hated the stuff and never dared admit it!" He raised a hand. "Don't worry, I won't blabbo. But I am wondering, if you control the thyle industry and sell all those relics at fancy prices, why do you call yourselves poor?" "Because we are," said Matheny. "By the time the shipping costs have Earth taxes—there's very little profit going back to the distillery on Mars. The same principle is what's strangling us on everything. Old Martian artifacts aren't really rare, for instance, but freight charges and the middlemen here put them out of the mass market." "Have you not got some other business?" "Well, we do sell a lot of color slides, postcards, baggage labels and so on to people who like to act cosmopolitan, and I understand our the money. We've sold some books and show tapes, of course, but only one has been really successful— I Was a Slave Girl on Mars absolutely, in dollars, it doesn't amount to much when we start shopping for bulldozers and thermonuclear power plants." "How about postage stamps?" inquired Doran. "Philately is a big Doran shrugged, dialed the dispenser and fed it coins. every economist." Of course I haven't. I've not so much as mentioned the Red Ankh, for The beer arrived. Matheny engulfed himself in it. Doran sipped at a "A pleasure." "But now you must let me buy you one." "That is not necessary. After all," said Doran with great tact, "with the situation as you have been describing—" "Oh, we're not that poor! My expense allowance assumes I will entertain quite a bit." there are so many rackets—uh, taxes—and middlemen and agencies and et cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days." Matheny's finger stabbed in the general direction of Doran's pajama and sell our whole planet before breakfast? Why, we couldn't afford three seconds of commercial time on a Lullaby Pillow 'cast. What we Matheny felt his eloquence running down and grabbed for the second "It might be arranged," said Doran in a thoughtful tone. "It just "I'm sorry to tell you this, Pete," said Doran, "but while that is not permanently." "I could offer a certain amount of, uh, lagniappe," said Matheny. "That Doran's black eyes frogged at him. "You might at that," said the he laughed at Matheny's, though they were probably too rustic for a "The best and slickest one on Earth, to operate a world-size con game for us and make us some real money." "Whoof!" Matheny sat down. The chair slithered sensuously about his "Me?" Matheny heard his voice climb to a schoolboy squeak. "Me? "Look, Pete," said Doran patiently. "She don't have to know that, does While Matheny jittered about, shaving and showering and struggling with his new raiment, Doran kept him supplied with akvavit and beer. "You said one thing, Pete," Doran remarked. "About needing a "What?" Matheny gaped out of the bathroom. Doran cupped his hands around a fresh cigarette, not looking at him. say, you wanted somebody terminated and could pay for it, I could not do it. I would not want to know anything about it. But I could tell you Matheny hesitated. If only he hadn't taken that last shot! It made him "What? But—but—" Matheny hung onto himself and tried to believe that Doran swallowed the pill and donned the conditioner helmet without an instant's hesitation. "I shall never reveal to any person unauthorized by yourself whatever you may tell me under security, now or at any other time," he "I know." Matheny stared, embarrassed, at the carpet. "I'm sorry years ago for the Billingsworth Expedition to find. We've been manufacturing relics ever since." " Doran blew up in laughter. "That is one thing I would never spill, even

<question>:
Why did Matheny feel guilty about Doran purchasing the ring?

<options>:
A Doran had never even visited Mars
B It was a fake
C It was made a million years ago and too old for a gift
D It was a priceless artifact that should not be sold

<answer>:

B