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She laughed at this "Good night!" She started up her walk Then she see and came back to look at him onder and curiosity "Are you happy?" she said

"Am I what?" he cried

But she was gone--running in the ently

"Happy! Of all the nonsense"

He stopped laughing

He put his hand into the glove hole of his front door and let it know his touch The front door slid open

Of course I'm happy What does she think? I' up at the ventilator grill in the hall and suddenly re that seemed to peer down at him now He moved his eyes quickly away

What a strangelike it save one afternoon a year ago when he had met an old man in the park and they had talked

Montag shook his head He looked at a blank wall The girl's face was there, really quite beautiful in , in fact She had a very thin face like the dial of a sht when you waken to see the ti you the hour and the , all certainty and knohat it has to tell of the night passing swiftly on toward further darknesses, butalso toward a new sun

"What?" asked Montag of that other self, the subconscious idiot that ran babbling at times, quite independent of will, habit, and conscience

He glanced back at the wall How like a mirror, too, her face Impossible; for how ht to you? People were more often--he searched for a si away until they whiffed out How rarely did

other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innerht?

What incredible power of identification the girl had; she was like the eager watcher of aeach flicker of an eyelid, each gesture of his hand, each flick of a finger, the ether? Three e that tie before him; what a shadow she threw on the ith her slender body! He felt that if his eye itched, she ht blink And if the muscles of his jaws stretched i before he would

Why, he thought, now that I think of it, she al for ht

He opened the bedroom door