451 по фаренгейту

           Wipedownthefurniturewithalcohol,wipethedoor-knobs. Burnthethrowrugintheparlour. Turntheair-conditioningonfullinalltheroomsandspraywithmoth-sprayifyouhaveit. Then,turnonyourlawnsprinklersashighasthey’llgoandhoseoffthesidewalks. Withanyluckatall,wecankillthetrailinhere,anyway..." 

           Fabershookhishand. "I’lltendtoit.Goodluck. Ifwe’rebothingoodhealth,nextweek,theweekafter,getintouch. GeneralDelivery,St.Louis. I’msorrythere’snowayIcangowithyouthistime,byear-phone. Thatwasgoodforbothofus.Butmyequipmentwaslimited. Yousee,IneverthoughtIwoulduseit. Whatasillyoldman. Nothoughtthere.Stupid,stupid. SoIhaven’tanothergreenbullet,therightkind,toputinyourhead.Gonow!" 

           "Onelastthing.Quick.Asuitcase,getit,fillitwithyourdirtiestclothes,anoldsuit,thedirtierthebetter,ashirt,someoldsneakersandsocks...?" 

           Faberwasgoneandbackinaminute. Theysealedthecardboardvalisewithcleartape. "TokeeptheancientodourofMr.Faberin,ofcourse,"saidFabersweatingatthejob. 

           Montagdousedtheexteriorofthevalisewithwhisky. "Idon’twantthatHoundpickinguptwoodoursatonce. MayItakethiswhisky.I’llneeditlater. ChristIhopethisworks!" 

           Theyshookhandsagainand,goingoutofthedoor,theyglancedattheTV. TheHoundwasonitsway,followedbyhoveringhelicoptercameras,silently,silently,sniffingthegreatnightwind. Itwasrunningdownthefirstalley. 

           "Good-bye!"