Атлант расправил плечи

           Anunshavedyoungmanwithgold-rimmedglassesstoodonacrateunderanarclight,yellingtothefacesshiftingpasthim,"Whatdotheymean,nobusiness!Lookatthattrain!It’sfullofpassengers!There’splentyofbusiness!It’sjustthatthere’snoprofitsforthem—that’swhythey’relettingyouperish,thosegreedyparasites!"AdisheveledwomanrusheduptoDagny,wavingtwoticketsandscreamingsomethingaboutthewrongdate.Dagnyfoundherselfpushingpeopleoutoftheway,fightingtoreachtheendofthetrain—butanemaciatedman,withthestaringeyesofyearsofmaliciousfutility,rushedather,shouting,"It’sallrightforyou,you’vegotagoodovercoatandaprivatecar,butyouwon’tgiveusanytrains,youandalltheselfish—"

           Hestoppedabruptly,lookingatsomeonebehindher.Shefeltahandgraspingherelbow:itwasHankRearden.Heheldherarmandledhertowardhercar;seeingthelookonhisface,sheunderstoodwhypeoplegotoutoftheirway.Attheendoftheplatform,apallid,plumpishmanstoodsayingtoacryingwoman,"That’showit’salwaysbeeninthisworld.Therewillbenochanceforthepoor,untilthericharedestroyed."Highabovethetown,hanginginblackspacelikeanuncooledplanet,theflameofWyatt’sTorchwastwistinginthewind.

           Reardenwentinsidehercar,butsheremainedonthestepsofthevestibule,delayingthefinalityofturningaway.