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

<passage>:
By CARL JACOBI Grannie Annie, who wrote science fiction under the nom de plume of Annabella C. Flowers, had stumbled onto a murderous plot more hair-raising than any she had ever concocted. And the danger from the villain of the piece shoulder. "Beg pardon, thir," he said with his racial lisp, "thereth thome one to thee you in the main lounge." His eyes rolled as he added, "A lady!" lounge. At the threshold I jerked to a halt and stared incredulously. Grannie Annie! There she stood before a frantically gesticulating desk clerk, leaning on her faded green umbrella. A little wisp of a woman clad in a voluminous black dress with one of those doily-like caps on her head, tied by a ribbon under her chin. Her high-topped button shoes were planted firmly on the varpla carpet and her wrinkled face was set in calm defiance. I barged across the lounge and seized her hand. "Grannie Annie! I "Hi, Billy-boy," she greeted calmly. "Will you please tell this The desk clerk went white. "Mithter Trenwith, if thith lady ith a friend of yourth, you'll have to take her away. It'th abtholutely againth the ruleth...." and Grannie Annie her usual whisky sour—I waited until she had tossed allowed in the Spacemen's ? What happened to the book you were writing?" "Hold it, Billy-boy." Laughingly she threw up both hands. "Sure, I knew this place had some antiquated laws. Pure fiddle-faddle, that's what they are. Anyway, I've been thrown out of better places." She hadn't changed. To her publishers and her readers she might be Annabella C. Flowers, author of a long list of science fiction novels. But to me she was still Grannie Annie, as old-fashioned as last year's hat, as modern as an atomic motor. She had probably written more drivel in the name of science fiction than anyone alive. But the public loved it. They ate up her stories, and they clamored for more. Her annual income totaled into six figures, and her publishers sat back and massaged their digits, watching their earnings mount. One thing you had to admit about her books. They may have been dime novels, but they weren't synthetic. If Annabella C. Flowers wrote a novel, and the locale was the desert of Mars, she packed her carpet bag and hopped a liner for Craterville. If she cooked up a feud between two ?" I asked. "That was the title of your last, wasn't it?" Grannie spilled a few shreds of Martian tobacco onto a paper and deftly rolled herself a cigarette. "It wasn't Guns ." I grinned. "All complete, I'll bet, with threats against the universe and beautiful Earth heroines dragged in by the hair." "What else is there in science fiction?" she demanded. "You can't have your hero fall in love with a bug-eyed monster." Up on the wall a clock chimed the hour. The old woman jerked to her feet. "I almost forgot, Billy-boy. I'm due at the the jetty front. Grannie Annie hailed a hydrocar. Five minutes later we tinpan piano in the pit. Grannie Annie pushed me into a seat in the somewhere and talk." She minced lightly down the aisle, climbed the stage steps and disappeared in the wings. "That damned fossilized dynamo," I muttered. "She'll be the death of me It grew a little tiresome after a while and I wondered why Grannie had brought me here. And then I began to notice things. Grannie Annie came out from behind the box office then. She took my arm THE JET. Inside was a deep room with booths along one wall. The place was all but deserted. In a booth well toward the rear the old lady surveyed me with sober eyes. I nodded. "As disgraceful an exhibition as I've ever seen. The I.P. men ought to clamp down." "The I.P. men aren't strong enough." She said it quietly, but there was a glitter in her eyes and a harsh line about her usually smiling lips. "What do you mean?" For a moment the old lady sat there in silence then she leaned back, closed her eyes, and I knew there was a story coming. "My last book, Death In The Atom she began. "When it was finished I had planned to take a six months' vacation, but those fool publishers of mine insisted I do a sequel. Well, I'd used Mars and Pluto and Ganymede as settings for novels, so The old woman paused. "Did you ever hear of the Green Flames?" she asked abruptly. I shook my head. "Some new kind of ..." a thousand times more subtle and more powerful than any known drug." followed." Grannie Annie lit a cigarette and flipped the match to the floor. existence, and it fell into the wrong hands, there'd be trouble. "Of course, I regarded Karn's story as a wild dream, but it made corking good story material. I wrote it into a novel, and a week after it was completed, the manuscript was stolen from my study back on Earth." "I see," I said as she lapsed into silence. "And now you've come to the conclusion that the details of your story were true and that someone is attempting to put your plot into action." and laughed heartily. "The same old Flowers," I said. "Tell me, who's your thief ... Doctor Universe?" She regarded me evenly. "What makes you say that?" I shrugged. ." If it had been anyone but Grannie Annie there before me, I would have called her a fool. And then all at once I got an odd feeling of Grannie Annie leaped to her feet, grasped my arm and raced for the It was around the camp fire that night that Grannie took me into her confidence for the first time since we had left Swamp City. to find a leader who might take complete dictatorial control. Outside a whisper-worm hissed softly. I got up and strode out of my tent. For some time I stood there, lost in thought. Could I believe Grannie's incredible story? Or was this another of her fantastic plots which she had skilfully blended into a novel? Abruptly I stiffened. The familiar drone of the marsh was gone. In its place a ringing silence blanketed everything. talons raked my clothing. Again it came, and again I rolled swiftly, missing the thing by the narrowest of margins. From the tent opposite a gaunt figure clad in a familiar dress appeared. Grannie gave a single warning: Grannie Annie fired with deliberate speed. I stood frozen as the diminuendo of its wild cries echoed back to me. "In heaven's name, what was it?" cafe in Swamp City. Exactly." Grannie Annie halted at the door of her Grannie Annie came to the point abruptly. When she had explained the "What do you mean?" Grannie paused in the act of rolling herself a cigarette. "You know where it is, don't you?" Grannie frowned in annoyance, but the prospector was adamant. He futility of the venture. Only the pleadings of Grannie Annie kept me from turning back. On the morrow I realized the truth in her warning, half buried in the swamp soil. "What's that thing on top?" Karn demanded, puzzled. Grannie gazed a long moment through binoculars. "Billy-boy, take three "Up we go, Billy-boy." Heat gun in readiness, Grannie Annie began to There was no sign of life. "Somebody's gone to a lot of trouble here," Ezra Karn observed.

<question>:
Why did Billy-boy take Grannie Annie to the grille?

<options>:
A He felt he needed to be polite and take her to dinner.
B No females were allowed in the club
C He wanted to go somewhere where no one would over hear their conversation
D He wanted to inspect the book she had been writing.

<answer>:

B