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

<passage>:
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 kiss from his wife, a word from his son, and later to see some old friends and a relative or two. He didn't want to talk about the journey. He wanted to forget the immediacy, the urgency, the terror then perhaps he would talk. Or would he? For he had very little to tell. He had traveled and he had He was glad. He'd had enough of strangers. Not that he was through with surprised that he'd had to do this. He'd thought Edith would be watching at a window. And perhaps she he looked at her. It hadn't been too long and she in high school, the small, slender woman he'd married twelve years ago. Ralphie was with her. They held onto each other as if seeking mutual support, the thirty-three-year old woman and ten-year-old boy. They Edith nodded and, still holding to Ralphie with one hand, put the other arm around him. He kissed her—her neck, her cheek—and all the old Edith was leading him into the living room, her hand lying still in his, down beside him—but she had hesitated. He wasn't being sensitive she had hesitated. His wife had hesitated before sitting down beside him. Carlisle had said his position was analogous to Columbus', to Vasco De in uniform, had not actually spoken to him as one man to another. ran from the room and from the house. He and Edith sat beside each other, and he wanted badly to take her in been lying down all the months of the way back. She said, "Of course. How stupid of me, expecting you to sit around and make small talk and pick up just where you left off." He was sure then that she 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 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 distasteful, something he felt beneath them both. And, at the same time, he began to understand that there would be many things, previously beneath them both, which would have to be considered. She had changed Ralphie had changed all the people he knew had probably changed—because they thought he 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 would again become good old Hank. It was little enough to ask for—a His mother came talkativeness, and Ralphie had always chosen mealtimes—especially with company present—to describe everything and anything that had happened to him during the day. And Edith herself had always chatted, especially with his mother, though they didn't agree about much. Still, it had been good-natured They began with grapefruit, Edith and Mother serving quickly, at Mother as he raised his first spoonful of chilled fruit, and said, before, but his mother had always reacted with a bright smile and a quip her left hand which lay limply beside the silverware. She didn't move 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 the hero returned, waiting to be treated as a human being. Aunt Lucille made a few quavering statements about the Ladies' Tuesday Aunt Lucille smiled, if you could call it that—a pitiful twitching of while." She touched his shoulder in passing—his affectionate, effusive irritated him with an excess of physical and verbal caresses—she barely Ralphie said, "Yeah, Dad." Aunt Lucille put down her knife and fork and murmured something to her husband. Joe cleared his throat and said Hank looked at Edith Edith was busy with her plate. Hank looked at Edith said, "Hank!" He said, voice hoarse, "Shut up. Go away. Let me eat alone. I'm sick of the lot of you." Mother and Joe returned a few minutes later where he sat forcing food down his throat. Mother said, "Henry dear—" He didn't answer. She began to cry, and he was glad she left the house then. He had never said anything really bad to his mother. He was afraid this would have been the time. Joe merely cleared his throat and mumbled something about getting together again soon and "drop out and see the new development" 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 She served him, and spooned out a portion for herself and Ralphie. She hesitated near his chair, and when he made no comment she called the Edith said, "He'll stay home, Hank. We'll spend an evening want to." 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. But he didn't sleep long. Edith shook him and he opened his eyes to a full of jokes. He patted Edith on the head the way he always had, and clapped Hank on the shoulder (but not the way he always had—so much and Hank went right on drinking. Edith said something to him, but he many times before, and he was sure several of the couples recognized 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 said, "I haven't danced with my girl Rhona." His tongue was thick, his mind was blurred, and yet he could read the strange expression on her face—pretty Rhona, who'd always flirted with him, who'd made a ritual Hank said, "First one dance with my loving wife." He and Edith danced. He didn't hold her close as he had Rhona. He waited she was trying to be the old Edith and not succeeding. This time when looked at his wife and then past her at the long, cast-iron fence would satisfy people. Maybe that's the only way to act, like Dracula or another monster from the movies." Edith said, "Oh, Hank, don't, don't!" 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 all work out in time." That question was perhaps the first firm basis for hope he'd had since returning. And there was something else what Carlisle had told him, even as Carlisle himself had reacted as all men did. Edith said, "Yes, and I'm so grateful that you're here, Hank. Please months—slept without dreaming." She came to him and touched his face with her lips, and he was 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 did Edith greet her husband the way she did when he returned home?

<options>:
A She was upset that Henry had not been there for their son for some time.
B She was nervous because she had not seen him in almost a year.
C In some ways, he was not the man who had left and she was nervous about the change.
D She had met another man and did not know how to tell Henry about him.

<answer>:

C