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"
It
's
not
just
the
woman
that
died
,
"
said
Montag
.
"
Last
night
I
thought
about
all
the
kerosene
I
've
used
in
the
past
ten
years
.
And
I
thought
about
books
.
And
for
the
first
time
I
realized
that
a
man
was
behind
each
one
of
the
books
.
A
man
had
to
think
them
up
.
A
man
had
to
take
a
long
time
to
put
them
down
on
paper
.
And
I
'd
never
even
thought
that
thought
before
.
"
He
got
out
of
bed
.
"
It
took
some
man
a
lifetime
maybe
to
put
some
of
his
thoughts
down
,
looking
around
at
the
world
and
life
,
and
then
I
came
along
in
two
minutes
and
boom
!
It
's
all
over
.
"
"
Let
me
alone
,
"
said
Mildred
.
"
I
did
n't
do
anything
.
"
"
Let
you
alone
!
That
's
all
very
well
,
but
how
can
I
leave
myself
alone
?
We
need
not
to
be
let
alone
.
We
need
to
be
really
bothered
once
in
a
while
.
How
long
is
it
since
you
were
really
bothered
?
About
something
important
,
about
something
real
?
"
And
then
he
shut
up
,
for
he
remembered
last
week
and
the
two
white
stones
staring
up
at
the
ceiling
and
the
pump-snake
with
the
probing
eye
and
the
two
soap-faced
men
with
the
cigarettes
moving
in
their
mouths
when
they
talked
.
But
that
was
another
Mildred
,
that
was
a
Mildred
so
deep
inside
this
one
,
and
so
bothered
,
really
bothered
,
that
the
two
women
had
never
met
.
He
turned
away
.
Mildred
said
,
"
Well
,
now
you
've
done
it
.
Out
front
of
the
house
.
Look
who
's
here
.
"
.
"
I
do
n't
care
.
"
"
There
's
a
Phoenix
car
just
driven
up
and
a
man
in
a
black
shirt
with
an
orange
snake
stitched
on
his
arm
coming
up
the
front
walk
.
"
"
Captain
Beauty
?
"
he
said
.
"
Captain
Beatty
.
"
