There was silence in the office for a few moments after the two had left.
Both men spoke at once. "Tim, have you heard...." "Two deaths, Jules."
Both were silent again. Neither looked at the other.
Dr. Farrar started again. "Why did it happen, Tim? What's the trouble up there? What have we done or not done?"
"They were bored and lonely and useless. Nothing you could have done, I'm afraid. Others feel the same way. There will have to be some smart talking at an Association meeting tonight to make them forget it."
Dr. Farrar looked keenly at the old man. "You too, Tim? Do you want to join Forsythe and Madame?"
Daneshaw looked straight at the doctor. "No, not me. That's why it will be hard for me to talk to them. I've been enjoying myself the whole time—sitting back, waiting and watching to see how our problems were going to be solved, indulging my curiosity about things, looking on with a rather Jovian amusement and tolerance to see how the young ones would have to learn how to deal with the old ones when they found out how many of us there were going to be. I thought I had all the time in the world to wait, so I've just been taking it easy and having quite a good time. It's really more my fault than yours."
"It's not your fault, Tim; I suppose it's mine. I thought that my studies would lose their validity if I stepped in and changed factors in your way of living. I totally ignored the changes involved in bringing you all here out of a normal life pattern with nothing but little diddling make-work substitutes to keep you busy."
"What would you call normal for us? We didn't even diddle before we came here."
"I should have remembered, though. I did a lot of work on the 'suicide period' between 60 and 70 seventeen years ago. There were only a couple hundred of the present Block Nineteener's and new ones coming all the time to keep things stirred up and interesting. I got so used to having things change up there every day that I never noticed when it began to bog down. It was my problem, Tim, and I ignored it."