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

<passage>:
So I started going through the purse of the woman next to me. Perhaps Miss Winters, a stern, white-haired disciplinarian, ordered me to eat my sack lunch in the classroom with her instead of outside with some of the other kids. This was the punishment for some minor infraction. Lunchtime was nearly over and we'd both finished eating she said she'd be gone for a few moments and that I was to erase the blackboard during her absence, which I dutifully did. Class had hardly resumed when she started looking around the desk for her favorite mechanical pencil, asking if any of us had seen it, and she was out of the room, so I probed the contents of her purse, which window. And I can stop clocks. Take this morning, for example. I had set my alarm for five-thirty because I had to catch the seven o'clock plane at San Francisco International Airport. This being earlier than I usually get up, it seems all I did during the night was feel my way past the escapement it amuses me. Sometimes. Not like this time on the plane. The woman beside me stirred, sat up suddenly and looked across me out the window. "Where are we?" she asked in a surprised voice. I told her at her wristwatch and sank back again. Soon the stewardesses would bring coffee and doughnuts around, so I contented myself with looking at the clouds and trying to think about The clock's balance wheel was rocking merrily. Quickly I went up past the train of gears to the alarm wheel. If this was anything like my own alarm clock, this one had something like ten minutes to go. It was forty minutes to Burbank and Lockheed Air Terminal. My mind was churning when I turned from the window to look around at the unconcerned passengers, the woman at my side asleep again. I soon, if we hadn't left it already. No place to land the plane there. But of course that had been the plan! My heart was beating in jackhammer rhythm my mouth was dry and my mind napkin. I goggled at her, managed to croak, "No, thanks." She gave me an odd look and moved along. My seatmate had accepted hers and was tearing at the cellophane. I couldn't bear to watch her. I closed my eyes, forced my mind back to the luggage compartment, spent a frantic moment before I found the bag again. I had to stop that balance wheel, just as I stopped my alarm clock every morning. I tried to close everything off—the throb of engines, the rush of air, the like trying to work with greasy hands, and I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to stop it. Then, little by little, it started to slow its beat. But I could not afford to relax. I pushed and pulled and didn't dare release my hold until it came to a dead stop. "Anything the matter?" "You were moaning, it sounded like. And you kept moving your head back and forth." "Must have been dreaming," I said as I rang for the stewardess. When she came I told her I'd take some of that coffee now. No, nothing else, just coffee. I didn't tell her how much I needed it. I sat there clammy the landing. When they unloaded the luggage, the balance wheel would start again. I wouldn't be able to stay with it, keeping it still. I considered telling the authorities as soon as we landed, or maybe calling in ahead, but wouldn't that just bring suspicion, questions. Maybe I could convince them I could stop a clock—but not before the my eyes and gritting my teeth, I forced my senses to the wheel, tugging and pulling and shoving and pushing until it finally stopped. "Were you really asleep that time?" "Not really," I said. I was tempted to tell the woman I was subject to fits, but I didn't. It was only a few minutes to landing, but they became the longest minutes of my life as time after time I stopped the rocking wheel when There was a flurry of ticket matching, hands grabbing for suitcases, and a general exodus on the part of my fellow passengers, too fast to immobility, it was like waking when I opened my eyes. stared back. Then I quickly reached for my baggage check and presented "Cab?" I shook my head. "Just waiting." Just waiting for somebody to pick up a bomb. through my head as to why it should still be there, and none satisfied me. I should not have been there, that much I knew something very mundane, the matter of a printing order. But what could I do? If I left the airport, the attendant would eventually take the bag inside and there would be an explosion, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself. whole thing. Then it would be his baby and I would be off on my own business. clock again. "Can I help you?" the clerk asked. "No. I'm waiting for someone." I turned my back to him, put down my suitcase, leaned against the "Do you have my suitcase?" glanced at me indifferently, and then started for the entrance with it. "Just a moment," I found myself saying, grabbing my bag and hurrying after her. At her side and a little ahead of her, I said, "Listen to me." She looked annoyed and increased her stride toward the door. "It's a matter of life or death," I said. I wanted to wrest the bag from her and hurl it out through the doorway into the street, but I "Please put the bag down. Over there." I indicated a spot beside a telephone booth where it would be out of the way. She didn't move. She just said, "Why?" The girl said, "Why?" I was beginning to think it was the only word she I must not have seemed a complete idiot because she said, "All right, but—" range it wasn't difficult to stop the balance wheel. Just the same, when I came out I was wringing wet. "Now will you please tell me what this is all about?" she said stiffly. "My husband." I thought she was going to really bawl, but she got control again. "This trip was his idea, my coming down here to visit my must have put the—put it in there." I said gently, "Why would he want to do a thing like that?" "I don't know." She shook her head. "I just don't know." And she was close to bawling again. Then she recovered and said, "I'm not sure I "It's all right now?" she asked. I nodded. "As long as we don't move it." I told her I didn't know how much more time there was, that I'd been thinking it over and that the only way out seemed to be to tell the bomb in her bag, that she had noticed a ticking and had become worried because she knew she hadn't packed a clock. It wasn't good, but it would have to do. "We've got to get it deactivated," I said, watching the fat man pay for his coffee and leave. "The sooner the better." I finished my coffee in one gulp and went to pay the bill with her. I asked her why she didn't claim the bag at the same time the other people had. She said she had called her sister and the phone was busy for a long while. "She was supposed to meet me, and when she wasn't here, I got worried. She said she isn't feeling well and asked me to take a cab." She smiled a little. It was a bright, cheery thing. I had the feeling it was all for me. "That's where I was going when you caught up with me." Julia's bag in his right hand, The policeman was sympathetic and concerned. He said, "We'd better get over to the office." shattered the air. Julia's hand grasped my arm. Hard. was all right. I didn't want to see him. I didn't know what Julia was thinking. She said, "About those bags," and looked at me.

<question>:
Which is the best description of how Julia reacted to the narrator trying to take her bag?

<options>:
A She was surprised enough by the request that she wasn't quite sure how to react
B She was unsettled because a strange man had approached her trying to take her things
C She was nervous because she thought the narrator had figured out her plan and the existence of the bomb
D She was frustrated with him for further delaying her already postponed trip

<answer>:

A