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"Wasn't he a European?"

"So like that"

"Wasn't he a radical?"

"I never read him"

"He was a radical" Mildred fiddled with the telephone "You don't expect me to call Captain Beatty, do you?

"You must!"

"Don't shout!"

"I wasn't shouting" He was up in bed, suddenly, enraged and flushed, shaking The parlor roared in the hot air "I can't call him I can't tell him I'm sick"

"Why?"

Because you're afraid, he thought A child feigning illness, afraid to call because after a moment's discussion, the conversation would run so: "Yes, Captain, I feel better already I'll be in at ten o'clock tonight"

"You're not sick," said Mildred

Montag fell back in bed He reached under his pillow The hidden book was still there

"Mildred, hoould it be if, well, maybe I quit my job awhile?"

"You want to give up everything? After all these years of working, because, one night, some woman and her books--"

"You should have seen her, Millie!"