"You're yellow under there."
"Fine! Let's try you now."
"It won't work for me."
"Here." Before he could move she had put the dandelion under his chin. He drew back and she laughed. "Hold still!" She peered under his chin and frowned.
"Well?" he said.
"What a shame," she said. "You're not in love with anyone."
"Yes, I am!"
"It doesn't show."
"I am, very much in love!" He tried to conjure up a face to fit the words, but there was no face. "I am!"
"Oh, please don't look that way."
"It's that dandelion," he said. "You've used it all up on yourself. That's why it won't work for me."
"Of course, that must be it. Oh now I've upset you, I can see I have; I'm sorry, really I am." She touched his elbow.
"No, no," he said, quickly, "I'm all right."
"I've got to be going, so say you forgive me, I don't want you angry with me."
"I'm not angry. Upset, yes."
"I've got to go see my psychiatrist now. They make me go. I make up things to say. I don't know what he thinks of me. He says I'm a regular onion! I keep him busy peeling away the layers."
"I'm inclined to believe you need the psychiatrist," said Montag.
"You don't mean that."
He took a breath and let it out and at last said, "No, I don't meant that."
&nbs
p; "The psychiatrist wants to know why I go out and hike around in the forests and watch the birds and collect butterflies. I'll show you my collection some day."
"Good."
"They want to know what I do with all my time. I tell them that sometimes I just sit and think. But I won't tell them what. I've got them running. And sometimes, I tell them, I like to put my head back, like this, and let the rain fall in my mouth. It tastes just like wine. Have you ever tried it?"
"No, I--"
"You have forgiven me, haven't you?"
"Yes." He thought about it. "Yes, I have. God knows why. You're peculiar, you're aggravating, yet you're easy to forgive. You say you're seventeen?"
"Well--next month."
"How odd. How strange. And my wife thirty and yet you seem so much older at times. I can't get over it."
"You're peculiar yourself, Mr. Montag. Sometimes I even forget you're a fireman. Now, may I make you angry again?"
"Go ahead."