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

<passage>:
You will, you know, so why quibble about it? At least, you always have ... or do ... or will. I don't know, verbs get all mixed up. We don't have the right attitude toward tenses for a situation like this. Anyhow, you'll let me in. I did, so you will. aren't. It's just that things are a bit confused. And don't look at the machine out there too long—until you get used to it, you'll find it's hard on the eyes, trying to follow where the vanes go. You'll get used sense things. So I'll simply go ahead talking for half an hour or so, until you get over it. After that you'll come might as well do the same. I probably couldn't help telling you the same thing in the same words, even if I tried—and I don't intend to you'll want to go along. I'll be tired of talking by then, and in a hurry to get going. So I prevents passage through time from affecting us. The luggage section isn't protected, though. You start to say something, but by then I'm pressing a black button, traveling along it, you'd need a fifth. Don't ask me. I didn't invent the machine and I don't understand it." "But...." apparently, though there is a time effect back in the luggage space. You look at your watch and it's still running. That means you either carry a small time field with you, or you are catching a small increment of time from the main field. I don't know, and you won't think about that then, either. I'm smoking, and so are you, and the air in the machine is getting a gravity, but I can't explain that, either. Maybe the machine has a gravity field built in, or maybe the time that makes your watch run is Then the machine stops—at least, the field around us cuts off. You feel a dankish sort of air replace the stale air, and you breathe of simple, short-limbed, one-piece affair I put on, but it feels comfortable. anyway?" I'd told you that, too, but you've forgotten. "As near as I can guess, interstellar civilization." "Since nobody ever stole it, it's safe." coughing noise and the basement openings begin to click by us. There's no feeling of acceleration—some kind of false gravity they use in the grab the motor, and get out. And good luck to you." You act as if you're dreaming, though you can't believe it's a dream. You nod at me and I move out into the main corridor. A second later, you see me going by, mixed into a crowd that is loafing along toward a restaurant, or something like it, that is just opening. I'm asking questions of a man, who points, and I turn and move off. The signs are very quiet and dignified. Some of them can be decoded to stationery shops, fountains, passengers moving up a ramp, and the office is closed. You begin to get the hang of the spelling they use, though. Now there are people around you, but nobody pays much attention to you. Why should they? You wouldn't care if you saw a man in a leopard-skin "Downayer rien turn lefa the sign. Stoo bloss," he tells you. Around you, you hear some pretty normal English, but there are others using stuff as garbled as his. The educated and uneducated? I don't know. You go right until you find a big sign built into the rubbery surface of the walk: guard. What's more, he speaks pretty clearly. Everyone says things in a sort of drawl, with softer vowels and slurred consonants, but it's rather pleasant. "Thanks," you mutter, wondering what kind of civilization can produce Lord, the genius of that twentieth century inventor! It's quite a hobby with me, sir. I've read everything I could get on the period. Oh—congratulations on your pronunciation. Sounds just like some of our oldest tapes." his name. Either they don't know it, or they take it for granted that everyone does, which seems more probable. They call attention to the and any amperage up to one thousand, its maximum power output being fifty kilowatts, limited by the current-carrying capacity of the outputs. They also mention that the operating principle is still being investigated, and that only such refinements as better alloys and the arriving, but I'll be back in about ten minutes. He wants to examine some of the weapons for a monograph on Centaurian primitives compared to nineteenth century man. You'll pardon me?" carried. You expect a warning bell, but nothing happens. As a matter of fact, machine out there now, you'd hear what I'm saying and know what will happen to you. But of course, just as I did, you're going to miss a maybe some of it helps. I've tried to remember how much I remembered, after he told me, but I can't be sure. So I'll keep on talking. I probably can't help it, anyhow. Pre-set, you might say. Well, you stagger down the corridor, looking out for the guard, but all a quick sigh of relief and start out onto the street. Then there's a yell behind you. You don't wait. You put one leg in front of the other and you begin racing down the walk, ducking past people, who stare at you with expressions you haven't time to see. There's another yell behind you. Something goes over your head and drops on the sidewalk just in front of your feet, with a sudden ringing sound. You don't wait to find out about that, either. Somebody reaches out a hand to catch you and you dart past. "You can't exert yourself that hard in this heat, fellow," the cop says. "There are laws against that, without a yellow sticker. Here, let me grab you a taxi." Reaction sets in a bit and your knees begin to buckle, but you shake your head and come up for air. "I—I left my money home," you begin. Pedestrians begin to move aside, and you and the stranger jog down the street at a trot, with a nice clear path, while the cop stands beaming this building. Just let us know when you're finished with the model and we'll pick it up." You swallow several sets of tonsils you had removed years before, and right. The signs along the halls are the same as they were. Then there's a sort of cough and something dilates in the wall. It gulping out something about going all the way down, and then wonder how a machine geared for voice operation can make anything of that. What You'll never know what you stumbled over, but, somehow, you move back in the direction of the time machine, bumping against boxes, staggering here and there, and trying to find the right place by sheer feel. Then beside it and you finally decide on that. Suddenly, there's a confused yell from the direction of the elevator it. Your finger touches the red button. You'll never know what the shouting was about—whether they finally doped out the fact that they'd been robbed, or whether they were trying to help you. You don't care which it is. The field springs up around years"—and you begin waiting for the air to get stale. It doesn't because there is only one of you this time. Instead, everything flashes off and you're sitting in the machine in It will begin to soak in, then. You pick up an atomic generator in the view—and telling your younger self all these things I'm telling you. But now.... Well, the drinks are finished. You're woozy enough to go along with me without protest, and I want to find out just why those people up there came looking for you and shouting, before the time machine left. Let's go.

<question>:
What can be determined about the language used in the futuristic civilization that Jerome visits?

<options>:
A They are lazy, based on the slurring and laws against physical exertion.
B They are all drunks, based on the slurring.
C They are all moving at a snail pace, based on the slurring and relaxed tempers.
D They are all in a hurry, based on the slurring.

<answer>:

A