451 по фаренгейту

           Theprocaineneedleflickedoutandin,outandin. AsinglecleardropofthestuffofdreamsfellfromtheneedleasitvanishedintheHound’smuzzle. 

           Montagheldhisbreath,likeadoubledfist,inhischest. 

           TheMechanicalHoundturnedandplungedawayfromFaber’shousedownthealleyagain. 

           Montagsnappedhisgazetothesky. Thehelicopterswerecloser,agreatblowingofinsectstoasinglelightsource. 

           Withaneffort,Montagremindedhimselfagainthatthiswasnofictionalepisodetobewatchedonhisruntotheriver; itwasinactualityhisownchess-gamehewaswitnessing,movebymove. 

           Heshoutedtogivehimselfthenecessarypushawayfromthislasthousewindow,andthefascinatingseancegoingoninthere! Hell!Andhewasawayandgone! Thealley,astreet,thealley,astreet,andthesmelloftheriver. Legout,legdown,legoutanddown. TwentymillionMontagsrunning,soon,ifthecamerascaughthim. TwentymillionMontagsrunning,runninglikeanancientflickeryKeystoneComedy,cops, robbers,chasersandthechased,huntersandhunted,hehadseenitathousandtimes. BehindhimnowtwentymillionsilentlybayingHoundsricochetedacrossparlours, three-cushionshootingfromrightwalltocentrewalltoleftwall,gone,rightwall, centrewall,leftwall,gone! 

           MontagjammedhisSeashelltohisear. 

           "PolicesuggestentirepopulationintheElmTerraceareadoasfollows: Everyoneineveryhouseineverystreetopenafrontorreardoororlookfromthewindows. Thefugitivecannotescapeifeveryoneinthenextminutelooksfromhishouse. Ready!"