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Mildred
's
mouth
twitched
.
"
See
what
you
're
doing
?
You
'll
ruin
us
!
Who
's
more
important
,
me
or
that
Bible
?
"
She
was
beginning
to
shriek
now
,
sitting
there
like
a
wax
doll
melting
in
its
own
heat
.
He
could
hear
Beatty
's
voice
.
"
Sit
down
,
Montag
.
Watch
.
Delicately
,
like
the
petals
of
a
flower
.
Light
the
first
page
,
light
the
second
page
.
Each
becomes
a
black
butterfly
.
Beautiful
,
eh
?
Light
the
third
page
from
the
second
and
so
on
,
chainsmoking
,
chapter
by
chapter
,
all
the
silly
things
the
words
mean
,
all
the
false
promises
,
all
the
second-hand
notions
and
time-worn
philosophies
.
"
There
sat
Beatty
,
perspiring
gently
,
the
floor
littered
with
swarms
of
black
moths
that
had
died
in
a
single
storm
Mildred
stopped
screaming
as
quickly
as
she
started
.
Montag
was
not
listening
.
"
There
's
only
one
thing
to
do
,
"
he
said
.
"
Some
time
before
tonight
when
I
give
the
book
to
Beatty
,
I
've
got
to
have
a
duplicate
made
.
"
"
You
'll
be
here
for
the
White
Clown
tonight
,
and
the
ladies
coming
over
?
"
cried
Mildred
.
Montag
stopped
at
the
door
,
with
his
back
turned
.
"
Millie
?
"
A
silence
"
What
?
"
"
Millie
?
Does
the
White
Clown
love
you
?
"
No
answer
.
"
Millie
,
does
--
"
He
licked
his
lips
.
"
Does
your
'
family
'
love
you
,
love
you
very
much
,
love
you
with
all
their
heart
and
soul
,
Millie
?
"
He
felt
her
blinking
slowly
at
the
back
of
his
neck
.
