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

<passage>:
Matilda would seek the happy medium. Matilda, you see, had patience. Matilda would write, and she often told her mother, the widow Penshaws, Matilda admired her mother's use of the word osmosis, but she found Matilda switched her bed lamp on and dabbed some citronella on each Matilda sighed happily as she put out the light. The moon shone in Matilda was not yet that far gone in years or appearance. Dressed Matilda got out of bed at seven, tiptoed into the bathroom, showered only mother could cook. Matilda moodily thanked the widow Penshaws. "Hello," said Matilda. The stereotype grunted and peered at her over his glasses. Matilda asked him where she could find Haron Gorka. "What?" "I said, where can I find Haron Gorka?" The stereotype pushed up his glasses and looked at her squarely. "Now take it easy, ma'am. First place, I don't know any Haron Gorka—" Matilda kept the alarm from creeping into her voice. She muttered an oh that if it really were important, she might check with the police. Matilda did, only they didn't know any Haron Gorka, either. It turned Matilda felt bad, but she had no intention of returning home this early. If she could not find Haron Gorka, that was one thing but she On the other hand—why not? Why couldn't the librarian help her? Why hadn't she thought of it before? Certainly a man as well-educated as Haron Gorka would be an avid reader, and unless he had a permanent residence here in Cedar Palls, one couldn't expect that he'd have his Matilda cleared her throat. "Pardon me," she began. "I'm looking for—" "Haron Gorka." The librarian nodded. "How on earth did you know?" "That's easy. You're the sixth young woman who came here inquiring about that man today. Six of you—five others in the morning, and now you in the afternoon. I never did trust this Mr. Gorka...." Matilda jumped as if she had been struck strategically from the rear. "You know him? You know Haron Gorka?" "What do you mean?" "I mean anyone would like to correspond with Haron Gorka. Or to know him well. To be considered his friend. Haron Gorka...." five women had been here first, Matilda was now definitely in a hurry. "Um, where can I find Mr. Gorka?" "I'm not supposed to do this, you know. We're not permitted to give the addresses of any of our people. Against regulations, my dear." Matilda reached into her pocket-book and withdrew a five dollar bill. Matilda nodded shrewdly and added a twin brother to the bill in her address. She thanked the librarian and then she went out to her car, whistling to herself. Haron Gorka lived in what could have been an agrarian estate, except that the land no longer was being tilled. The house itself had fallen he was too busy with his cultural pursuits to pay any real attention to his dwelling. That was it, of course: the conspicuous show of wealth or personal industry meant nothing at all to Haron Gorka. Matilda liked him all the more for it. Matilda. And then, quite annoyedly, she berated herself for not having perhaps she was too late.... As it turned out, she wasn't. Not only that, she was welcomed with open arms. Not by Haron Gorka that she really might have liked. Instead, "You want any food or drink," the servant told her, "and you just press that button. The results will surprise you." "What about Mr. Gorka?" "When he wants you, he will send for you. Meanwhile, make yourself to home, lady, and I will tell him you are here." A little doubtful now, Matilda thanked him and watched him leave. He It must be said to Matilda's favor that she sobbed only once. After that she realized that what is done is done and here, past thirty, she wasn't going to be girlishly timid about it. Besides, it was not her fault if, in his unconcern, Haron Gorka had unwittingly hired a neurotic servant. For a time Matilda paced back and forth in her room, and of what was heads, but, upon awaking with a start, she immediately ascribed that to her overwrought nerves. At that point she remembered what the servant had said about food and Matilda gasped once and felt about to gasp again—but by then her salivary glands were working overtime, and she ate her meal. The fact that it was precisely what she would have wanted could, of course, be attributed to coincidence, and the further fact that everything was extremely palatable made her forget all about Haron Gorka's neurotic servant. When she finished her meal a pleasant lethargy possessed her, and in a all. It was a deep sleep and a restful one, and when she awoke it was with the wonderful feeling that everything was all right. The feeling did not last long. Standing over her was Haron Gorka's servant, and he said, "Mr. Gorka will see you now." "Now?" "Now. That's what you're here for, isn't it?" She told the servant so. "Miss," he replied, "I assure you it will not matter in the least to Haron Gorka. You are here and he is ready to see you and that is all realized that each of them probably had a cubicle of a room like her own, and that each in her turn had already had her first visit with Haron Gorka. Well, then, she must see to it that she impressed him better than did all the rest, and, later, when she returned to tell the old librarian of her adventures, she could perhaps draw her out and compare notes. She would not admit even to herself that she was disappointed with Haron Gorka. It was not that he was homely and unimpressive it was He said, "Greetings. You have come—" "In response to your ad. How do you do, Mr. Gorka?" She hoped she wasn't being too formal. But, then, there was no sense in assuming that he would like informality. She could only wait and see Matilda, accustomed to social chatter, gave him a gambit. you have a high psi-quotient, or that you were very hungry." "Yes," said Matilda vaguely. Perhaps it might be better, after all, if Haron Gorka were to talk to her as he saw fit. "Ready?" "Uh—ready." "Well?" "Well, what, Mr. Gorka?" Almost at once, Matilda's educational background should have told her that Haron Gorka was mouthing gibberish. But on the other hand she wanted Haron Gorka's guests to depart. As she shifted into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, she saw alone. As she drove back to town, the disappointment melted slowly away. There were, of course, two alternatives. Either Haron Gorka was an eccentric who enjoyed this sort of outlandish tomfoolery, or else he was plainly insane. She could still picture him ranting on aimlessly to no one in in detail. She did this first because it was a promise, and second because she knew it would make her feel better. "So," she finished, "Haron Gorka is either extremely eccentric or insane. I'm sorry." Matilda didn't understand. She didn't understand at all, but she told me if I told you something." "What's that?" "I am Mrs. Gorka." Matilda did not say a word. One madman a day would be quite enough for

<question>:
What is significant about the meal Matilda is served?

<options>:
A It lends credence to Gorka’s otherworldly claims. How else could it have happened?
B She’d been starving, and it was enough to distract her from the reality of what happened to her.
C It’s exactly what she wanted to eat, and she didn’t have to ask for it. ,
D It means Gorka’s paranoid servant had been observing her, and determined her favorite foods.

<answer>:

A