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- 451 по фаренгейту
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- Стр. 45/158
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"
It
does
n't
matter
.
"
She
was
up
in
the
bathroom
now
,
and
he
heard
the
water
running
,
and
the
swallowing
sound
she
made
.
"
No
,
I
guess
not
,
"
he
said
.
He
tried
to
count
how
many
times
she
swallowed
and
he
thought
of
the
visit
from
the
two
zinc-oxide-faced
men
with
the
cigarettes
in
their
straight-lined
mouths
and
the
electronic-eyed
snake
winding
down
into
the
layer
upon
layer
of
night
and
stone
and
stagnant
spring
water
,
and
he
wanted
to
call
out
to
her
,
how
many
have
you
taken
tonight
!
the
capsules
!
how
many
will
you
take
later
and
not
know
?
and
so
on
,
every
hour
!
or
maybe
not
tonight
,
tomorrow
night
!
And
me
not
sleeping
,
tonight
or
tomorrow
night
or
any
night
for
a
long
while
;
now
that
this
has
started
.
And
he
thought
of
her
lying
on
the
bed
with
the
two
technicians
standing
straight
over
her
,
not
bent
with
concern
,
but
only
standing
straight
,
arms
folded
.
And
he
remembered
thinking
then
that
if
she
died
,
he
was
certain
he
would
n't
cry
.
For
it
would
be
the
dying
of
an
unknown
,
a
street
face
,
a
newspaper
image
,
and
it
was
suddenly
so
very
wrong
that
he
had
begun
to
cry
,
not
at
death
but
at
the
thought
of
not
crying
at
death
,
a
silly
empty
man
near
a
silly
empty
woman
,
while
the
hungry
snake
made
her
still
more
empty
.
How
do
you
get
so
empty
?
he
wondered
.
Who
takes
it
out
of
you
?
And
that
awful
flower
the
other
day
,
the
dandelion
!
It
had
summed
up
everything
,
had
n't
it
?
"
What
a
shame
!
You
're
not
in
love
with
anyone
!
"
And
why
not
?
Well
,
was
n't
there
a
wall
between
him
and
Mildred
,
when
you
came
down
to
it
?
Literally
not
just
one
,
wall
but
,
so
far
,
three
!
And
expensive
,
too
!
And
the
uncles
,
the
aunts
,
the
cousins
,
the
nieces
,
the
nephews
,
that
lived
in
those
walls
,
the
gibbering
pack
of
tree-apes
that
said
nothing
,
nothing
,
nothing
and
said
it
loud
,
loud
,
loud
.
He
had
taken
to
calling
them
relatives
from
the
very
first
.
"
How
's
Uncle
Louis
today
?
"
"
Who
?
"
"
And
Aunt
Maude
?
"
The
most
significant
memory
he
had
of
Mildred
,
really
,
was
of
a
little
girl
in
a
forest
without
trees
(
how
odd
!
)
or
rather
a
little
girl
lost
on
a
plateau
where
there
used
to
be
trees
(
you
could
feel
the
memory
of
their
shapes
all
about
)
sitting
in
the
centre
of
the
"
living-room
.
"
The
living-room
;
what
a
good
job
of
labelling
that
was
now
.
No
matter
when
he
came
in
,
the
walls
were
always
talking
to
Mildred
.
"
Something
must
be
done
!
"
"
Yes
,
something
must
be
done
!
"
"
Well
,
let
's
not
stand
and
talk
!
"
"
Let
's
do
it
!
"
