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

<passage>:
Orison went with her cupped hands to the nearest tank and sprinkled the Trust Company, the gentleman to whom Miss Orison McCall was applying hound's-tooth checks, the scarlet vest peeping above the vee of his jacket, were enough to assure Orison that the Taft Bank was a curious "He was a very kind employer," Orison said. She tried to keep from Orison's look of bewilderment. "One each, a Franklin and a Grant," he to Orison. He, too, she observed, wore earmuffs. His were more formal "Yes, sir," Orison said. She was wondering if she'd be issued earmuffs, now that she'd become an employee of this most peculiar bank. "What will I be doing, Mr. Wanji?" Orison asked. "Yes, sir," Orison said. "While you're here, Mr. Wanji, I'd like to "Yes, sir," Orison said. This laissez-faire policy of Taft Bank's might explain why she'd been selected from the Treasury Department's Orison nodded. Holding her newspaper and her microphone, she read the By lunchtime Orison had finished the Orison switched off her microphone at noon, marked her place in the heart, wore a pair of earmuffs. Orison nodded bemused acknowledgment favored her with no gambit to enter their conversations. Orison sighed, lonely desk and her microphone. By five, Orison had finished the book, What I need, Orison thought, walking rapidly to the busline, is a double Scotch, followed by a double Scotch. And what the William Howard Taft National Bank and Trust Company needs is a joint raid by forces of the U.S. Treasury Department and the American Psychiatric Association. Earmuffs, indeed. Fairy-tales read into a microphone. A Vice-President with the vocabulary of a racetrack tout. And what goes on in those boss in Washington had told her that this job of hers, spying on Taft Bank from within, might prove dangerous. Indeed it was, she thought. She was in danger of becoming a solitary drinker. Home in her apartment, Orison set the notes of her first day's observations in order. Presumably Washington would call tonight for her initial report. Item: some of the men at the Bank wore earmuffs, to be off-limits to all personnel not wearing earmuffs. Item: she was being employed at a very respectable salary to read newsprint and nonsense into a microphone. Let Washington make sense of that, she o'clock. Washington should be calling soon, inquiring after the results of her first day's spying. No call. Orison slipped between the sheets at eleven-thirty. The clock was set the lights were out. Wasn't Washington going to call her? Perhaps, she thought, the Department had discovered that the Earmuffs had her phone tapped. Orison sat up, clutching the sheet around her throat. "Beg pardon?" she said. "Testing," the male voice repeated. "One, two, three Orison reached under the bed for a shoe. Gripping it like a Scout-ax, Orison lay down cautiously. "All right," she whispered to her pillow. Orison transferred her head to the pillow to her left. "A radio?" she asked. "Of a sort," Monitor J-12 agreed. "We have to maintain communications security. Have you anything to report?" "I got the job," Orison said. "Are you ... in that pillow ... all the "No, Miss McCall," the voice said. "Only at report times. Shall we "Now, tell me what happened at the bank today." Orison briefed her pillow on the Earmuffs, on her task of reading to a microphone, and on the generally mimsy tone of the William Howard Taft National Bank and Trust Company. "That's about it, so far," she said. "Good report," J-12 said from the pillow. "Sounds like you've dropped into a real snakepit, beautiful." Orison flung the shoe and the pillow under her bed, and resolved to write Washington for permission to make her future reports by registered mail. II "It's nothing," Orison said, switching off the microphone. "On the contrary, Miss McCall. Your duties are most important," he said. "You'll be reading silently before long," Mr. Gerding said. He smiled, as though this explained everything. "By the way, your official designation is Confidential Secretary. It's me whose confidences you're to keep secret. If I ever need a letter written, may I stop down here and dictate it?" financial organization." "You may find some of our methods a little strange, but you'll get used to them," he said. "Meanwhile, I'd be most grateful if you'd dispense "Dink?" she asked. "And I suppose you're to call me Orison?" "That's the drill," he said. "One more question, Orison. Dinner this "I'd love to," Orison said, half expecting an orchestra to march, curtsy? Orison wondered. Orison finished the Orison looked up. "Oh, hello," she said. "I didn't hear you come up." of the desk, "and pounce ever so hard." She smiled. Opulent, Orison "Thanks," Orison said. "Sorry you have to leave so suddenly," Orison said, rolling her "So remember, Tiny, Dink Gerding is mine. You're all alone up here. You could get broken nails, fall down the elevator shaft, all sorts of "You make it very clear," Orison said. "Now you'd best hurry back to he stepped up to Orison's desk. "Good morning. Miss McCall," he said. "What is this?" Orison demanded. "Visiting-day at the zoo?" She paused had!—and Orison half expected him to free her hand from the rolled-up Orison jumped up, tossing the paper into her wastebasket. "I quit!" she the wise...." " Kraft Gerding called the elevator, marched aboard, favored Orison with Surely, Orison thought, recovering the Wall Street Journal from her and all. She began again to read the paper into the microphone. If she finished early enough, she might get a chance to prowl those Off-Limits Half an hour further into the paper, Orison jumped, startled by the Orison scribbled down this intelligence in bemused Gregg before "Yes, Mr. Wanji. I'll tell Mr. Gerding." Orison clicked the phone down. What now, Mata Hari? she asked herself. What was the curious language Mr. Wanji had used? She'd have to report the message to Washington by tonight's pillow, and let the polyglots of Treasury Intelligence puzzle it out. Meanwhile, she thought, scooting her chair back from her desk, she had a vague excuse to prowl the upper floors. The Earmuffs could only fire her. Orison folded the paper and put it in the "Out" basket. Someone would Orison thought she saw Benjamin Franklin winking up at her from the leaping, swinging, spinning webs, seething in the hundred tanks. Orison Orison struggled to release herself. She broke free only to have "Dink ... Dink!" Orison shouted. "I came to bring a message to Dink," Orison said. "Let me go, you "I wish you hadn't come up here, Orison," Dink said. "Why did you do Orison," he said. Orison extended her hand as into a furnace. Dink brushed the "What do they do?" Orison asked. "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." 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 prefer to send her reports to Washington by mail?

<options>:
A She preferred to put everything in writing.
B She found the “pillow talk” to be improper.
C So the reports could be done faster.
D So the reports would be more secure.

<answer>:

B