"And that, of course, would be the end of civilization. Pretty soon, there would be nothing left, and everybody would be dead."
Jennette did not reply when he stopped. She turned her head away, but Mark could hear her uneven breathing.
"We have a responsibility toward society at large. We know it. We've been well educated and we aren't savages. Neither one of us can get away from it. It might be wonderful at first, but our conscience would come out sooner or later, and the whole thing would be ruined."
She rubbed her face with her cupped hands, shaking her head. "I suppose—" she murmured unhappily.
"You'd hate yourself for it after a while," he said.
For a few minutes, Jennette stared at the grass before her feet, pulling up little blades of it one by one. Then Mark stood up, and she flashed him a small, wistful, damp smile. Together they walked back toward the elevator, stepping quietly and almost furtively on the soft ground. "If it weren't for that—" he started.
"I understand," she replied quickly. Taking hold of his arm, she said, "I'm sorry."
"Sure." Mark grinned affectionately at her. "Come on. Let's see if they've been having any good fights upstairs." They stepped into the elevator and disappeared. The artificial moon continued its regular motion through the simulated sky.