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

<passage>:
Infield turned his soft blue eyes to the black and tan oxfords with the very thick rubber soles. "They might get soaked through." Morgan took his foot off the chair behind the desk and sat down. you then?" Infield shrugged slightly. "I suppose a man must take some chances." Morgan said, "You can't do it, Henry. You're crossing the line. The people we treat are on one side of the line and we're on the other. If you cross that line, you won't be able to treat people again." Henry, but staying on our side is a pretty good way to keep sane and Infield whirled and stalked to the desk. "That's the answer! The whole savages out in the street will die unless we can cure the disease, not only the indications." Morgan shifted his ponderous weight uneasily. "Now, Henry, it's no good Infield leaned on the desk and glared. "I called myself a psychiatrist once. But now I know we're semi-mechanics, semi-engineers, Morgan smiled. "You know, Henry, not all of our Cures are so—so—not "But is everything all right?" Infield asked intensely. "Suppose the patient is driving over one hundred on an icy road. He thinks about slowing down, but there's the voice in his ear. Or suppose he's or one of those inhuman lobotomies." Morgan shrugged helplessly. "You're an idealist." "You're damned right!" Infield slammed the door behind him. The cool air of the street was a relief. Infield stepped into the main of Cure. "Pardon me," he said warmly. "Quite all right." It was the first time in years that anyone had apologized to Infield for anything. He had been one of those condemned Normals, more to be scorned than pitied. Perhaps he could really get to understand these Suddenly something else was pushing against Infield, forcing the air from his lungs. He stared down at the magnetic suction dart he merely radiated narrowed eyes. "How long have you been Cured?" "Not—not long," Infield evaded. slowly. "Do you think you might be interested in joining a fraternal organization of the Cured?" Infield's pulse raced, trying to get ahead of his thoughts, and losing out. A chance to study a pseudo-culture of the "Cured" developed in was going to faint. "All right. I'll risk it." He touched the side of his face away from the psychiatrist. Infield shifted around, trying to see that side of his benefactor, but couldn't manage it in good grace. He wondered if the fellow was sporting a Mom-voice hearing aid and was afraid of raising her ire. He cleared his throat, noticing the affectation of it. "My name's Infield." "Price," the other answered absently. "George Price. I suppose they left ear. Infield supposed it was a Cure, although he had never issued one like it. He didn't know if it would be good form to inquire what kind it was. himself, Infield knew. The threat of death would keep him constantly shocked sane. Men hide in the comforts of insanity, but when faced with Infield looked up self-consciously and noticed that they had crossed Book says a little wine is good for a man, or something like that. I don't remember exactly." Of course he didn't, Infield knew. Why should he? It was useless to Infield sighed. At least this device kept the man on his feet, doing some kind of useful work instead of rotting in a padded cell with a it." He did laugh. Price fumbled with the cigarette stub in the black iron ashtray, examining it with the skill of scientific observation. "Mr. Infield is buying me the drink and that makes it different." name for the so-called Normals. Have you ever thought of just how dangerous these people are, Mr. Infield?" "Frankly, no," Infield said, realizing it was not the right thing to say but tiring of constant pretense. "You don't understand. Everyone has some little phobia or fixation. ." Infield's throat went dry. "And you're the one to deal with them?" "It's my Destiny." Price quickly added, "And yours, too, of course." Infield nodded. Price was a demagogue, young, handsome, dynamic, likable, impassioned with his cause, and convinced that it was his divine destiny. He was a psychopathic egotist and a dangerous man. Doubly dangerous to Infield because, even though he was one of the few people who still read books from the old days of therapy to recognize Price for what he was, he nevertheless still liked the young man "We'll Cure them whether they want to be Cured or not—for their own good." Infield felt cold inside. After a time, he found that the roaring was Every Cure cut down on the mental and physical abilities of the patient as it was, whether Morgan and the others admitted it or not. But if everyone had a crutch to lean on for one phobia, he would develop secondary symptoms. the hopeless. Enforced Cures would be a curse for the individual and the race. But Infield let himself relax. How could anyone force a mechanical relief for neurotic or psychopathic symptoms on someone who didn't want or need it? don't you tell him it's silly?" "Maybe it is," Infield said softly. "You could take the shock if he downed that drink and the shock might do you good." Infield." The psychiatrist sat rigidly. "You didn't think you could give me your right name in front of your Infield gestured vaguely. "A psychiatrist wouldn't hand out Cures unless they were absolutely necessary." Infield in the street. Infield hit the big man behind the ear. He dropped the bottle and fell looked up at Infield. Infield wasn't a large man, but he had pressed two hundred and fifty "I could drop you," the psychiatrist said. "No!" Davies begged weakly. "Please!" "I'll do it if you cause more trouble." Infield sat down and rubbed his aching forearms. "No. No, you aren't." Infield felt an excitement pounding through him, same as when he had diagnosed his first case. No, better than that. "That taste of liquor didn't kill you, Price. Nothing terrible They were all looking at Infield. Somehow he felt this represented a the knifing ice bristles of the rain, Henry Infield realized that he It was his problem. Infield usually solved other people's problems, but now he ran away—he couldn't even solve his own. Infield realized that he had gone mad as he held the thin blade high said INFIELD &amp MORGAN and opened the door. He ran across the room to the man sitting at the desk, reading by the swivel light. "Mr. Morgan, your partner, Mr. Infield, he—" "Just a moment." Morgan switched on the room lights. "What were you saying?" "Mr. Infield went out without his Cure in a storm and was struck by lightning. We took him to the morgue. He must have been crazy to go out without his Cure." Morgan stared into his bright desk light without blinking. "This is quite a shock to me. Would you mind leaving? I'll come over to your Morgan exhaled. Poor Infield. But it wasn't the lightning that killed him, of course. Morgan adjusted the soundproofing plugs in his ears, thinking that you did have to have quite a bit of light to read lips. The thunder, naturally, was what had killed Infield. Loud noise—any

<question>:
Why does Morgan believe Henry Infield is an idealist?

<options>:
A Infield has a vision of the world that includes complete and total Cures for everyone who has a phobia of anything.
B Infield is skeptical that Cures cause limited interference like Morgan claims. He believes they will drive people to insanity.
C Infield calls Morgan out for knowingly developing Cures that do not work and are sometimes only 23% effective.
D Infield does not believe that human beings should be subject to the kinds of human experimentation of which Morgan seems to take no issue.

<answer>:

B