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"My feet," said Montag "I can't move them I feel so damn silly My feet won't move!"

"Listen Easy now," said the oldmistakes Don't be Mistakes can be profited by Man, when I was younger I shoved norance in people's faces They beat me with sticks By the time I was fortypoint for norance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn Now, pick up your feet, into the firehouse with you! We're twins, we're not alone any more, we're not separated out in different parlors, with no contact between If you need help when Beatty pries at you, I'll be sitting right here in your eardru notes!"

Montag felt his right foot, then his left foot, move

"Old man," he said, "stay with me"

The Mechanical Hound was gone Its kennel was empty and the firehouse stood all about in plaster silence and the orange Salamander slept with its kerosene in its belly and the fire throwers crossed upon its flanks and Montag cah the silence and touched the brass pole and slid up in the dark air, looking back at the deserted kennel, his heart beating, pausing, beating Faber was a gray moth asleep in his ear, for the moment

Beatty stood near the drop hole waiting, but with his back turned as if he were not waiting

"Well," he said to the e beast which in all tongues is called a fool"

He put his hand to one side, pallancing at the title, Beatty tossed the book in the trash basket and lit a cigarette "'Who are a little wise, the best fools be' Welco with us, now that your fever is done and your sickness over Sit in for a hand of poker?"

They sat and the cards were dealt In Beatty's sight, Montag felt the guilt of his hands His fingers were like ferrets that had done some evil and now never rested, always stirred and picked and hid in pockets,from under Beatty's alcohol-fla felt that his hands ht wither, turn over on their sides, and never be shocked to life again; they would be buried the rest of his life in his coat sleeves, forgotten For these were the hands that had acted on their own, no part of him, here here the conscience first manifested itself to snatch books, dart off with Job and Ruth and Willie Shakespeare, and now, in the firehouse, these hands seeloved with blood

Twice in half an hour, Montag had to rise froo to the latrine to wash his hands When he came back he hid his hands under the table

Beatty laughed "Let's have your hands in sight, Montag Not that we don't trust you, understand, but--"

They all laughed

"Well," said Beatty, "the crisis is past and all is well, the sheep returns to the fold We're all sheep who have strayed at ti, we've cried They are never alone that are accohts, we've shouted to ourselves 'Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge,' Sir Philip Sidney said But on the other hand: 'Words are like leaves and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found' Alexander Pope What do you think of that, Montag?"

"I don't know"

"Careful," whispered Faber, living in another world, far away