451 по фаренгейту
It was a pleasure to burn
Hehadn’tlookedforalongtime.
Theywalkedtherestofthewayinsilence, hersthoughtful,hisakindofclenchinganduncomfortablesilenceinwhichheshotheraccusingglances. Whentheyreachedherhouseallitslightswereblazing.
"What’sgoingon?" Montaghadrarelyseenthatmanyhouselights.
"Oh,justmymotherandfatherandunclesittingaround,talking. It’slikebeingapedestrian,onlyrarer. Myunclewasarrestedanothertime-didItellyou?-forbeingapedestrian. Oh,we’remostpeculiar."
"Butwhatdoyoutalkabout?"
Shelaughedatthis. "Goodnight!"Shestartedupherwalk. Thensheseemedtoremembersomethingandcamebacktolookathimwithwonderandcuriosity. "Areyouhappy?"shesaid.
"AmIwhat?"hecried.
Butshewasgone-runninginthemoonlight. Herfrontdoorshutgently.
"Happy!Ofallthenonsense."
Hestoppedlaughing.
Heputhishandintotheglove-holeofhisfrontdoorandletitknowhistouch. Thefrontdoorslidopen.
OfcourseI’mhappy.Whatdoesshethink? I’mnot?heaskedthequietrooms.
