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And
the
men
with
the
cigarettes
in
their
straight-lined
mouths
,
the
men
with
the
eyes
of
puff-adders
,
took
up
their
load
of
machine
and
tube
,
their
case
of
liquid
melancholy
and
the
slow
dark
sludge
of
nameless
stuff
,
and
strolled
out
the
door
.
Montag
sank
down
into
a
chair
and
looked
at
this
woman
.
Her
eyes
were
closed
now
,
gently
,
and
he
put
out
his
hand
to
feel
the
warmness
of
breath
on
his
palm
.
"
Mildred
,
"
he
said
,
at
last
.
There
are
too
many
of
us
,
he
thought
.
There
are
billions
of
us
and
that
's
too
many
.
Nobody
knows
anyone
.
Strangers
come
and
violate
you
.
Strangers
come
and
cut
your
heart
out
.
Strangers
come
and
take
your
blood
.
Good
God
,
who
were
those
men
?
I
never
saw
them
before
in
my
life
!
Half
an
hour
passed
.
The
bloodstream
in
this
woman
was
new
and
it
seemed
to
have
done
a
new
thing
to
her
.
Her
cheeks
were
very
pink
and
her
lips
were
very
fresh
and
full
of
colour
and
they
looked
soft
and
relaxed
.
Someone
else
's
blood
there
.
If
only
someone
else
's
flesh
and
brain
and
memory
.
If
only
they
could
have
taken
her
mind
along
to
the
dry-cleaner
's
and
emptied
the
pockets
and
steamed
and
cleansed
it
and
reblocked
it
and
brought
it
back
in
the
morning
.
If
only
...
He
got
up
and
put
back
the
curtains
and
opened
the
windows
wide
to
let
the
night
air
in
.
It
was
two
o'clock
in
the
morning
.
Was
it
only
an
hour
ago
,
Clarisse
McClellan
in
the
street
,
and
him
coming
in
,
and
the
dark
room
and
his
foot
kicking
the
little
crystal
bottle
?
Only
an
hour
,
but
the
world
had
melted
down
and
sprung
up
in
a
new
and
colourless
form
.
Laughter
blew
across
the
moon-coloured
lawn
from
the
house
of
Clarisse
and
her
father
and
mother
and
the
uncle
who
smiled
so
quietly
and
so
earnestly
.
Above
all
,
their
laughter
was
relaxed
and
hearty
and
not
forced
in
any
way
,
coming
from
the
house
that
was
so
brightly
lit
this
late
at
night
while
all
the
other
houses
were
kept
to
themselves
in
darkness
.
Montag
heard
the
voices
talking
,
talking
,
talking
,
giving
,
talking
,
weaving
,
reweaving
their
hypnotic
web
.
Montag
moved
out
through
the
french
windows
and
crossed
the
lawn
,
without
even
thinking
of
it
.
He
stood
outside
the
talking
house
in
the
shadows
,
thinking
he
might
even
tap
on
their
door
and
whisper
,
"
Let
me
come
in
.
I
wo
n't
say
anything
.
I
just
want
to
listen
.
What
is
it
you
're
saying
?
"
