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

<passage>:
Anybody who shunned a Cure needed his head examined—assuming he had one left! Henry Infield placed the insulated circlet on his head gently. The gleaming rod extended above his head about a foot, the wires from it Infield turned his soft blue eyes to the black and tan oxfords with the very thick rubber soles. "They might get soaked through." Morgan took his foot off the chair behind the desk and sat down. Infield shrugged slightly. "I suppose a man must take some chances." Morgan said, "You can't do it, Henry. You're crossing the line. The people we treat are on one side of the line and we're on the other. If Morgan shrugged helplessly. "You're an idealist." "You're damned right!" Infield slammed the door behind him. The cool air of the street was a relief. Infield stepped into the main readily apparent. A young man with black glasses and a radar headset (a photophobe) was unable to keep from being pushed against Infield. He sounded out the lightning rod, his face changing when he realized it must be some kind jabbed the button that sent a negative current through the cable. The magnetic suction dart dropped away from Infield like a thing that had been alive and now was killed. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The other turned to Infield. "He was unconscious on his feet," he explained. "He never knew he fell." Infield's pulse raced, trying to get ahead of his thoughts, and losing out. A chance to study a pseudo-culture of the "Cured" developed in The man's face paled so fast, Infield thought for an instant that he was going to faint. "All right. I'll risk it." He touched the side of his face away from the psychiatrist. Infield shifted around, trying to see that side of his benefactor, himself, Infield knew. The threat of death would keep him constantly shocked sane. Men hide in the comforts of insanity, but when faced with Infield looked up self-consciously and noticed that they had crossed two streets from his building and were standing in front of what Infield wondered why cheap bars and restaurants always used red-checked shuffled up to them with a towel on his arm, staring ahead of him at some point in time rather than space. Price lit a cigarette with unsteady hands. "Reggie is studying biblical Of course he didn't, Infield knew. Why should he? It was useless to learn his Bible lessons to save his father, because it was obvious his father was dead. He would never succeed because there was no reason to Infield sighed. At least this device kept the man on his feet, doing some kind of useful work instead of rotting in a padded cell with a examining it with the skill of scientific observation. "Mr. Infield is buying me the drink and that makes it different." Reggie went away. Price kept dissecting the tobacco and paper. Infield cleared his throat and again reminded himself against such obvious affectations. "You were telling me about some organization of the "We'll Cure them whether they want to be Cured or not—for their own good." Infield felt cold inside. After a time, he found that the roaring was explain." Reggie's heavy hand sat a straight bourbon down before Price and another before Infield. Price stared at the drink almost without comprehension of how it came to be. He started to sweat. the bite might do me good if I'd been bitten by a rabid dog, but I don't have the nerve to do it." Before Infield could move, Reggie came and set both drinks on a little circular tray. He moved away. "I knew it. That's all he did, just look at the drink. Makes me laugh." "You'll feel differently after you've been Cured for a while yourself. Other psychiatrists have." Before Infield could speak, a stubble-faced, barrel-chested man moved past their table. He wore a safety belt. It was the man Price had Infield in the street. Davies went to the bar in the back. "Gimme a bottle," he demanded of a vacant-eyed Reggie. He came back toward them, carrying the bottle in one hand, brushing off rain drops with the other. He stopped beside Price and glared. Price leaned back. The chair creaked. Mrs. Price kept system, it will kill him!" She rocked the rag doll in her arms, trying to soothe it, and stared in horror. Infield hit the big man behind the ear. He dropped the bottle and fell over sideways on the floor. Fear and hate mingled in his eyes as he looked up at Infield. Nonsense, Infield told himself. Eyes can't register emotion. "I'll do it if you cause more trouble." Infield sat down and rubbed his aching forearms. Davies backed off in terror, right into the arms of Reggie. The waiter "Let him go, Reggie," Price choked out, getting to his feet. "I'm not dead." He wiped his hand across his mouth. "No. No, you aren't." Infield felt an excitement pounding through him, same as when he had diagnosed his first case. No, better than that. They were all looking at Infield. Somehow he felt this represented a critical point in history. It was up to him which turn the world took, the world as represented by these four Cured people. "I'm afraid I'm lightning flashes, Reggie. Come on." Running down the streets that were tunnels of shining tar, running into the knifing ice bristles of the rain, Henry Infield realized that he rushed. Reggie said, "We shall make a sacrifice." Infield looked up and saw the lightning reflected on the blade of a thin knife. Infield reached toward it more in fascination than fear. He managed to get all his fingers around two of Reggie's. He jerked and the knife fell into Infield's palm. The psychiatrist pulled himself erect by holding to Reggie's arm. Staggering to his feet, he remembered what he must do and slashed at the waiter's head. A gash streaked across the man's brow and blood poured into his eyes. He screamed. "I can't see the words!" It was his problem. Infield usually solved other people's problems, but He was wrong. The lightning hit him first. Reggie squinted under the bandage at the lettering on the door that said INFIELD &amp MORGAN and opened the door. He ran across the room to the man sitting at the desk, reading by the swivel light. "Mr. Morgan, your partner, Mr. Infield, he—" "Just a moment." Morgan switched on the room lights. "What were you saying?" "Mr. Infield went out without his Cure in a storm and was struck by lightning. We took him to the morgue. He must have been crazy to go out without his Cure." Morgan stared into his bright desk light without blinking. "This is quite a shock to me. Would you mind leaving? I'll come over to your place and you can tell me about it later." Reggie went out. "Yes, sir. He was struck by lightning, struck dead. He must have been crazy to leave his Cure...." The door closed. Morgan exhaled. Poor Infield. But it wasn't the lightning that killed him, of course. Morgan adjusted the soundproofing plugs in his ears, thinking that you did have to have quite a bit of light to read lips. The thunder, naturally, was what had killed Infield. Loud noise—any

<question>:
Why did Morgan turn on the lights at Infield & Morgan when Reggie entered?

<options>:
A The room was too dark, and he wanted to see who had entered his business so suddenly in the middle of a bad storm.
B He wanted to surprise Reggie with his presence so that he could dismantle Reggie's Cure easier.
C Because he was sensitive to sound, Morgan's Cure was wearing ear protection. So he had to turn on the lights in order to read Reggie's lips.
D In his shock at the news of Infield's death, Morgan turned on the light so that he could see Reggie and make sure he was telling him the truth.

<answer>:

C