for the privilege of half-being.

"That ends my sad day," Connor sighed. "I'm taking a blackout pill and
intend to stay that way for the next fourteen hours."

* * * * *

The next morning he rode into the city in the same car as the one that
had brought him back the day before. None of the regulars even deigned
to look in his direction. There was another change today. Only two
fellow Suspendeds were reading their books even though there had been
three for the past few months. Which meant another one had exhausted his
income and was being forced into the inner city.

At the office none of Connor's associates greeted him. They didn't even
have to contrast the new tension in his face with the easy-going,
flannelled contentment of their fellows. Undoubtedly somebody had tried
to reach him or Rhoda and heard the Suspension Notice on their severed
thought-lines.

As was also to be expected, there was a notice on his desk that his
executive services would no longer be needed.

He quickly gathered up his personal things and went downstairs, passing
through the office workers pool. Miss Wilson, his Suspended secretary,
came up to him. She looked saddened yet, curiously, almost triumphant
too. "We all heard the bad news this morning," she said, her blue eyes
never wavering. "We want you to know how sorry we are since you're not
accustomed--"

"I'll never be accustomed to it," he said bitterly.

"No, Mr. Newman, you mustn't think that way. Human beings can get
accustomed to whatever's necessary."

"Necessary? Not in my books!"

"Some day you may feel differently. I was born into a Suspended family
and we've managed. Being on the outside has its compensations."

"Such as?"

"We-l-l--," she faltered, "I really don't know exactly. But you must
have faith it will be so." She pulled out a card from a pocket of her
sheath dress. "Maybe you'll want to use this some day."

He glanced at the card which said, _John Newbridge, Doctor at Mind, 96th
Level, Harker Building, Appointments by Writing Only_. There was no
thought-line coding.

"I have no doubt," he muttered. But she was starting to look hurt so he
carefully slid the card into his wallet.

"He's very helpful," she said. "I mean, helpful for people who have
adjustment problems."

"You're a good girl," he said huskily. "Maybe we'll meet someday again.
I'll have my wife call--write to you so you can visit us before we have
to come int