"Can you take any steps to stop it or keep it—within control?"
I shook my head again. He stared for a minute at me.
"I believe you," he said at last. "It's a pity. Think what we could have done—just a few of us!" He sat for some time drumming his fingers on his knees and frowning slightly. Then he stood up.
"Never mind," he exclaimed. "I'm convinced it will cure me. That is the main thing. I'll have plenty of time to realize my dream now, Harden, thanks to you. You don't know what that means—ah, you don't know!"
"By the way," I said, "I see you are suggesting that food may become a problem in the future. I think we'll be all right."
"Why?"
"Well, you see, if there's no desire, there's no appetite."
"I don't understand," he said. "It seems clear that if disease is mastered by the germ, then the death-rate will drop, and there will be more mouths to fill. If everyone lives for their threescore and ten, the food question will be serious."
"Oh, they'll live longer than that. They'll live for ever, Mr. Jason."
He laughed tolerantly.