Slowly she shook her head, and her pale eyes went moody and luminous. "I'm going to have one of my own," she said.
He stood in the back of the truck, staring down at her. "Do you realize what—"
"I know what I'm saying. We're class-C on account of heart-trouble in both our families. Well, I don't care, Terry. I'm not going to waste a heart over one of these pathetic little artificial animals. We're going to have a baby."
"You know what they'd do to us?"
"If they catch us, yes—compulsory divorce, sterilization. But they won't catch us. I'll have it at home, Terry. Not even a doctor. We'll hide it."
"I won't let you do such a thing."
She faced him angrily. "Oh, this whole rotten world!" she choked. Suddenly she turned and fled out of the building. She was sobbing.
Norris climbed slowly down from the truck and wandered on into the house. She was not in the kitchen nor the living room. The bedroom door was locked. He shrugged and went to sit on the sofa. The television set was on, and a newscast was coming from a local station.
"... we were unable to get shots of the body," the announcer was saying. "But here is a view of the Georges residence. I'll switch you to our mobile unit in Sherman II, James Duncan reporting."