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

<passage>:
Still, he was the honored home-comer, the successful returnee, the He was glad when the official greeting was over. He was a very tired man and he had come farther, traveled longer and over darker country, than any man who'd ever lived before. He wanted a meal at his own table, a then perhaps he would talk. Or would he? For he had very little to tell. He had traveled and he had returned and his voyage was very much like the voyages of the great mariners, from Columbus onward—long, dull periods of time passing, passing, and then the arrival. The house had changed. He saw that as soon as the official car let him off at 45 Roosevelt Street. The change was, he knew, for the better. They had put a porch in front. They had rehabilitated, spruced up, almost rebuilt the entire outside and grounds. But he was sorry. He had wanted it to be as before. The head of the American Legion and the chief of police, who had escorted him on this trip from the square, didn't ask to go in with him. He was glad. He'd had enough of strangers. Not that he was through with knocker on the new door and heard the soft music sound within. He was surprised that he'd had to do this. He'd thought Edith would be watching at a window. didn't grow much while you were gone, Dad, Mom says I don't eat enough." So he put him down and told himself that it would all change, that everything would loosen up just as his commanding officer, General Carlisle, had said it would early this morning before he left Washington. "Give it some time," Carlisle had said. "You need the time they need with him all the way, who had engineered the entire fantastic journey—even Carlisle the Nobel prize winner, the multi-degreed genius They had been right to worry. He had suffered much after that blow-up. But now they should be rejoicing, because he had survived and made the he waved his hand—it shook a ten-year-old boy's hand that shook—and ran from the room and from the house. tired. I'd like to lie down a while." Which wasn't true, because he'd been lying down all the months of the way back. and pick up just where he'd left off. But they didn't expect it of him they wouldn't let him they felt he had changed too much. She led him upstairs and along the foyer past Ralphie's room and past the small guest room to their bedroom. This, too, had changed. It was to this bed again." "Not this bed," he murmured, and was a little sorry afterward. "No, not this bed," she said quickly. "Your lodge donated the bedroom had known, and that the beds and the barrier between them were her own choice, if only an unconscious choice. He went to the bed near the window, stripped off his Air Force blue jacket, began to take off his shirt, but then remembered that some arm scars still showed. He waited for her to leave the room. She said, "Well then, rest up, dear," and went out. He took off his shirt and saw himself in the mirror on the opposite wall them. Perhaps she never would. Perhaps pajamas and robes and dark rooms would keep them from her until they were gone. Which was not what he'd considered at all important on leaving Walter Reed Hospital early this morning which was something he found distasteful, something he felt beneath them both. And, at the same time, before. But sometime later, as he was dozing off, a sense of reassurance began filtering into his mind. After all, he was still Henry Devers, the same man who had left home eleven months ago, with a love for family and friends which was, if anything, stronger than before. Once he could communicate this, the strangeness would disappear and the First One granted to him. He slept. Dinner was at seven p.m. His mother came it—she hadn't touched him once beyond that first, quick, strangely-cool embrace at the door—then a few seconds later she withdrew it and let it drop out of sight. Joe and Mother—his wife and son bracketed him, and yet he felt alone—and said, "I've missed fooling around with the lawn and the rose bushes. Here it is August and I haven't had my hand to a mower or trowel." murmured something to her husband. Joe cleared his throat and said Lucille was rapidly becoming a vegetarian and he guessed she was going into the living room for a while. "She'll be back for dessert, of course," he said, his laugh sounding forced. Hank looked at Edith overturned, spilling water. He brought it down again and again. They to cry, and he was glad she left the house then. He had never said and he, too, was gone. Lucille never did manage to speak to him. He finished his beef and waited. Soon Edith came in with the special dessert she'd been preparing half the day—a magnificent English trifle. Ralphie's head dropped and he muttered, "Aw, no, Dad." Edith said, "He'll stay home, Hank. We'll spend an evening They answered together that of course they wanted to. But their eyes—his wife's and son's eyes—could not meet his, and so he said he was going to his room because he was, after all, very tired and would in all probability continue to be very tired for a long, long time and that they shouldn't count on him for normal social life. He fell asleep quickly, lying there in his clothes. Do the town? They'd paint it and then tear it down! It didn't turn out that way. He was disappointed but then again, he'd also expected it. This entire first day at home had conditioned him to They didn't bowl very long. At ten o'clock they crossed the road to Manfred's Tavern, where Phil and the girls ordered sandwiches and coffee him. But except for a few abortive glances in his direction, it was as if he were a stranger in a city halfway around the world. At midnight, he was still drinking. The others wanted to leave, but he The number finished they walked back to the booth. Phil said, "Beddy-bye time." it always showed in the eyes—that made him know she was trying to be the old Edith and not succeeding. This time when the music ended, he was ready to go home. They rode back to town along Route Nine, he and Edith in the rear of The car was filled with horrified silence when there should have been nothing but laughter, or irritation at a too-old joke. "Maybe you should let me out right here," Hank said. "I'm home—or that's what everyone didn't wait for Edith. He just got out and walked up the flagstone path and entered the house. "Hank," Edith whispered from the guest room doorway, "I'm so sorry—" "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's just a matter of time. It'll you terribly, we've all hurt you terribly, by trying to hide that we're frightened." "I'm going to stay in the guest room," he said, "for as long as necessary. For good if need be." "How could it be for good? How, Hank?" returning. And there was something else what Carlisle had told him, even as Carlisle himself had reacted as all men did. did—seven months ago next Wednesday—he's going to be next. He was smashed up worse than I was, so it took a little longer, but he's almost he'll go into the tanks and they'll start the regenerative brain and organ process—the process that made it all possible. So people have to satisfied. Later, half asleep, he heard a dog howling, and remembered stories of how they announced death and the presence of monsters. He shivered and

<question>:
Why is it ironic that Henry was uncomfortable to see his house rebuilt?

<options>:
A He used to like change, and always encouraged remodeling projects
B It used to be his wife that hated change, not Henry.
C He himself was rebuilt, in some sense.
D He had said he would do the remodeling himself when he got back, but it was done when he arrived.

<answer>:

C