four!
Why in the world Val has remained faithful to me through all our marriage, I'll never figure out! I don't deserve it!" He rose, paced, sat again. "After all, a man in my business-
-a merchant--spends a lot of his life in other cities, other lands, far from his home. I haven't been exactly a saint. Val never expected me to be! Quite the contrary! Not a jealous bone in her body! Of course, as we've grown older, and as I've become, I suppose, monotonous and over-familiar, less desired and desiring--and as Val, poor girl, has become more and more alienated by drink--she's developed a certain shrewishness about purely imaginary 'other women.' Her mind is warping, I fear. For I've never to her knowledge been 'indiscreet,' Bernman. Never to her certain knowledge!"
The scientist caught again an overtone of sanctimoniousness, or a false undertone of self-righteous defensiveness. He wished the other man were not thus revealing a flaw in his personality. It wasn't necessary, and Ben had found Farr, otherwise, a sincere, very brilliant, imaginative person. He again said nothing.
Farr waited, drumming uncertain fingers on the bridge table. Finally, with a shrug, he said, "That's about it! I merely meant to explain that if we're entombed here for month after month, there are inevitably going to be some romances. When they begin, the inevitable result will be some pretty violent jealousies. In close quarters that emotion can be dangerous. I went into all this because I knew you'd be on the side of keeping order, preventing quarrels--fights, even--and demanding decency, or grace, anyway, from all hands."
"But," Ben said perplexedly, "naturally! What else?"
"Good man!" Farr seemed to have been relieved of a burden. He rose and clasped Ben's limp, surprised hand. "Knew you'd understand. "
Startled, Ben thought for a second, returned the handshake mildly, and decided he had to be absolutely sure. "Vance," he asked solemnly, "do you, by chance, mean, in all that talk, that you are warning me to—to--"
"To what?"
"To leave Faith alone?" He blurted it.
"Good Lord!" Farr was chuckling. Fantastically, Ben felt. "Faith decides who leaves her alone--or doesn't!"
"Then"--Ben was still puzzled--"do you plan to give a similar talk to all the other men? As a general precaution?"
Farr shook his head, almost aggrievedly. "No. I simply gave you the background of those here, as I know it, for the reason I said. You're a solid-seeming type, emotionally. You have standards. And guts. Don't stop me." He raised his short-fingered hand. "I know what it cost you to face the fact, just after you came here, that you cared about my daughter, and wouldn't ever let it show. Proud of you for it! In a way, anyhow.
But I feared you assumed others have as much self-command as you. They haven't!
You'll see, I think. And I'm glad I know now that you'll help, if, or when, I need help, to keep things sane."
"I'm sure," Ben answered, "you're needlessly worried."
"I hope so. Anyhow, I'll worry less, since we've talked." Once again he looked at his watch. "Time, nearly, to check the heat situation. Shall we go?"
Halfway up the shaft they saw that the area of luminosity on the underside of the middle doors had grown dimmer and, they both thought, slightly smaller. Relieved, they came back.
Ben said, as the elevator portal shut and Farr started toward the ladder, "I think I might take the outside radiation-level readings after this." He held the metal rungs till Farr shouted from the highest: "Dropped back to eighty-nine!" He climbed down.
Ben was absent for fifteen minutes. When he returned Farr was lounging and smoking a cigar. Ben had wanted a cigarette all day, all this night, like the others who smoked and yearned to do so here--achingly, nervously, tensely. But since Farr had not smoked, Ben had assumed, like the rest, that their air supply wouldn't permit it. Now, seeing the thick, spiral-issuing cigar in Farr's fingers, Ben snatched a
Why in the world Val has remained faithful to me through all our marriage, I'll never figure out! I don't deserve it!" He rose, paced, sat again. "After all, a man in my business-
-a merchant--spends a lot of his life in other cities, other lands, far from his home. I haven't been exactly a saint. Val never expected me to be! Quite the contrary! Not a jealous bone in her body! Of course, as we've grown older, and as I've become, I suppose, monotonous and over-familiar, less desired and desiring--and as Val, poor girl, has become more and more alienated by drink--she's developed a certain shrewishness about purely imaginary 'other women.' Her mind is warping, I fear. For I've never to her knowledge been 'indiscreet,' Bernman. Never to her certain knowledge!"
The scientist caught again an overtone of sanctimoniousness, or a false undertone of self-righteous defensiveness. He wished the other man were not thus revealing a flaw in his personality. It wasn't necessary, and Ben had found Farr, otherwise, a sincere, very brilliant, imaginative person. He again said nothing.
Farr waited, drumming uncertain fingers on the bridge table. Finally, with a shrug, he said, "That's about it! I merely meant to explain that if we're entombed here for month after month, there are inevitably going to be some romances. When they begin, the inevitable result will be some pretty violent jealousies. In close quarters that emotion can be dangerous. I went into all this because I knew you'd be on the side of keeping order, preventing quarrels--fights, even--and demanding decency, or grace, anyway, from all hands."
"But," Ben said perplexedly, "naturally! What else?"
"Good man!" Farr seemed to have been relieved of a burden. He rose and clasped Ben's limp, surprised hand. "Knew you'd understand. "
Startled, Ben thought for a second, returned the handshake mildly, and decided he had to be absolutely sure. "Vance," he asked solemnly, "do you, by chance, mean, in all that talk, that you are warning me to—to--"
"To what?"
"To leave Faith alone?" He blurted it.
"Good Lord!" Farr was chuckling. Fantastically, Ben felt. "Faith decides who leaves her alone--or doesn't!"
"Then"--Ben was still puzzled--"do you plan to give a similar talk to all the other men? As a general precaution?"
Farr shook his head, almost aggrievedly. "No. I simply gave you the background of those here, as I know it, for the reason I said. You're a solid-seeming type, emotionally. You have standards. And guts. Don't stop me." He raised his short-fingered hand. "I know what it cost you to face the fact, just after you came here, that you cared about my daughter, and wouldn't ever let it show. Proud of you for it! In a way, anyhow.
But I feared you assumed others have as much self-command as you. They haven't!
You'll see, I think. And I'm glad I know now that you'll help, if, or when, I need help, to keep things sane."
"I'm sure," Ben answered, "you're needlessly worried."
"I hope so. Anyhow, I'll worry less, since we've talked." Once again he looked at his watch. "Time, nearly, to check the heat situation. Shall we go?"
Halfway up the shaft they saw that the area of luminosity on the underside of the middle doors had grown dimmer and, they both thought, slightly smaller. Relieved, they came back.
Ben said, as the elevator portal shut and Farr started toward the ladder, "I think I might take the outside radiation-level readings after this." He held the metal rungs till Farr shouted from the highest: "Dropped back to eighty-nine!" He climbed down.
Ben was absent for fifteen minutes. When he returned Farr was lounging and smoking a cigar. Ben had wanted a cigarette all day, all this night, like the others who smoked and yearned to do so here--achingly, nervously, tensely. But since Farr had not smoked, Ben had assumed, like the rest, that their air supply wouldn't permit it. Now, seeing the thick, spiral-issuing cigar in Farr's fingers, Ben snatched a
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