451 по фаренгейту

           Thevoicestalkedofeverything,therewasnothingtheycouldnottalkabout, heknewfromtheverycadenceandmotionandcontinualstirofcuriosityandwonderinthem. 

           Andthenoneofthemenlookedupandsawhim, forthefirstorperhapstheseventhtime,andavoicecalledtoMontag: 

           "Allright,youcancomeoutnow!" 

           Montagsteppedbackintotheshadows. 

           "It’sallright,"thevoicesaid."You’rewelcomehere." 

           Montagwalkedslowlytowardthefireandthefiveoldmensittingtheredressedindarkbluedenimpants andjacketsanddarkbluesuits. Hedidnotknowwhattosaytothem. 

           "Sitdown,"saidthemanwhoseemedtobetheleaderofthesmallgroup. "Havesomecoffee?" 

           Hewatchedthedarksteamingmixturepourintoacollapsibletincup,whichwashandedhimstraightoff. Hesippeditgingerlyandfeltthemlookingathimwithcuriosity. Hislipswerescalded,butthatwasgood. Thefacesaroundhimwerebearded,butthebeardswereclean,neat,andtheirhandswereclean. Theyhadstoodupasiftowelcomeaguest, andnowtheysatdownagain. Montagsipped. "Thanks,"hesaid. "Thanksverymuch." 

           "You’rewelcome,Montag.Myname’sGranger." Heheldoutasmallbottleofcolourlessfluid."Drinkthis,too. It’llchangethechemicalindexofyourperspiration. Halfanhourfromnowyou’llsmellliketwootherpeople. WiththeHoundafteryou,thebestthingisBottomsup." 

           Montagdrankthebitterfluid.