B is the answer, his fear of the cat.
<span>
I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill-use it; but gradually—very gradually—"I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing", and to "flee silently from its odious presence", as from the breath of a pestilence.</span>
B. When the waiter slipped on the puddle of water.
B) a sonnet is a rhyming poem of fourteen lines.
