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

<passage>:
just as phony as a three-dollar bill! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Trust Company, the gentleman to whom Miss Orison McCall was applying for a job, was not at all the public picture of a banker. His suit of hound's-tooth checks, the scarlet vest peeping above the vee of his "He was a very kind employer," Orison said. She tried to keep from "Beg pardon?" "What kinda salary you bucking for?" he translated, bouncing up and down on the toes of his rough-leather desert boots. to Orison. He, too, she observed, wore earmuffs. His were more formal "What will I be doing, Mr. Wanji?" Orison asked. might explain why she'd been selected from the Treasury Department's By lunchtime Orison had finished the gentlemen whipped off their hats with a single motion as Orison stepped heart, wore a pair of earmuffs. Orison nodded bemused acknowledgment eyed Orison with the coolness due so attractive a competitor, and favored her with no gambit to enter their conversations. Orison sighed, No call. Orison slipped between the sheets at eleven-thirty. The clock Orison sat up, clutching the sheet around her throat. "Beg pardon?" she Orison reached under the bed for a shoe. Gripping it like a Scout-ax, "What you're testing," Orison said in a firm voice, "is my patience. Who are you?" "You make it sound so improper," Orison said. Orison briefed her pillow on the Earmuffs, on her task of reading to a "How do you know ... why do you think I'm beautiful?" Orison asked. a peculiar electronic pop that puzzled Orison for a moment. Then she Orison flung the shoe and the pillow under her bed, and resolved of leather heels. The gentleman whose heels had just slammed together was bowing. And she saw with some gratification that he was not wearing earmuffs. "My name," the stranger said, "is Dink Gerding. I am little family." "I'm Orison McCall," she said. A handsome man, she mused. Twenty-eight? So tall. Could he ever be interested in a girl just five-foot-three? Maybe higher heels? "We're pleased with your work, Miss McCall," Dink Gerding said. He took reasonably astute sixth-grader couldn't do as well," Orison said. with calling me 'sir.' My name is Dink. It is ridiculous, but I'd enjoy "Dink?" she asked. "And I suppose you're to call me Orison?" "Then I'll pick you up at seven. Windsor Arms, if I remember your personnel form correctly." He stood, lean, all bone and muscle, and bowed slightly. West Point? Hardly. His manners were European. curtsy? Orison wondered. "Thank you," she said. He was a soldier, or had been: the way, when he turned, his shoulders stayed square. The crisp clicking of his steps, a military metronome, to the elevator. When the door slicked open Orison, staring after Dink, just head-and-neck. But not to her. To Dink Gerding. Orison finished the Record , thinking as she read of meeting again this evening that handsome Orison looked up. "Oh, hello," she said. "I didn't hear you come up." "I walk ever so lightly," the woman said, standing hip-shot in front of the desk, "and pounce ever so hard." She smiled. Opulent, Orison thought. Built like a burlesque queen. No, she thought, I don't like her. Can't. Wouldn't if I could. Never cared for cats. "I'm Orison McCall," she said, and tried to smile back without showing "Common courtesy," Miss Vingt explained. "Also, darling, I'd like to draw your attention to one little point. Dink Gerding—you know, the shoulders and muscles and crewcut? Well, he's posted property. Should you throw your starveling charms at my Dink, you'd only get your little eyes scratched out. Word to the wise, "What is this?" Orison demanded. "Visiting-day at the zoo?" She paused "Auga is rather intense," the new Mr. Gerding said. "Yeah, intense," Orison said. "Like a kidney-stone." Dink's elder brother. I understand you've met Dink already." "Yes, sir," Orison said. The hair of this new Mr. Gerding was cropped even closer than Dink's. His mustache was gray-tipped, like a patch of frosted furze and his eyes, like Dink's, were cobalt blue. The head, Orison mused, would look quite at home in one of Kaiser Bill's spike-topped Instead, Kraft Gerding smiled a smile as frosty as his mustache and the wise...." " Half an hour further into the paper, Orison jumped, startled by the Dink ger-Dink d'summa. Orison scribbled down this intelligence in bemused Gregg before Orison was blinded by the lights, brilliant as noonday sun. The room Orison thought she saw Benjamin Franklin winking up at her from the leaping, swinging, spinning webs, seething in the hundred tanks. Orison her two sumo -sized captors, whose combined weights exceeded hers by some quarter-ton, without doing more than lifting her feet from the floor. "... your flesh would be unharmed, though they spun and darted "Dink ... Dink!" Orison shouted. "I came to bring a message to Dink," Orison said. "Let me go, you himself to one knee. Dink had entered the spider-room. Without his chest. "You're all right, child. Breathe deep, swallow, and turn your brain back on. All right, now?" Dink brought his right fist up from hip-level, crashing it into Kraft's Kraft struggled to one knee and remained kneeling, gazing up at Dink "I wish you hadn't come up here, Orison," Dink said. "Why did you do to Dink, keeping her eyes on the nearest spidertank. "I had to see "You're too curious, and Wanji is too careless," Dink said. "Now, what "I've always been terrified of them," Orison said. "When I was a little "Strange," Dink said. He walked over to the nearest tank and plucked Orison," he said. She backed away from Dink Gerding and the minuscule creature he cupped in the palm of his hand. "These are Microfabridae, more nearly related to shellfish than to spiders," he said. "They're stone-and-metal eaters. They literally couldn't harm a fly. Look at it, Orison." He the bowl of his hand. "Pretty little fellow, isn't he?" Dink asked. "I'd be happier if you did," Dink said. Orison extended her hand as into a furnace. Dink brushed the "A sort of crustacean," Dink agreed. "We use them in a commercial "That's still a secret," Dink said, smiling. "I can't tell even you that, not yet, even though you're my most confidential secretary." "What's he doing now?" Orison asked, watching the Microfabridus, perched up on the rear four of his six microscopic legs, scratching against her high-school class-ring with his tiny chelae. "They like gold," Dink explained, peering across her shoulder, comfortably close. "They're attracted to it by a chemical tropism, as children are attracted to candy. Toss him back into his tank, Orison. We'd better get you down where you belong." Orison brushed the midget crustacean off her finger into the nearest Orison closed her eyes, leaning back into Dink's arms, listening to

<question>:
Why did Orison think that Dink had a European background?

<options>:
A His accent
B The languages he speaks
C His manners
D His physique

<answer>:

C