Атлант расправил плечи
The Moratorium on Brains
Ithelpsme—talkingtoyouand...justseeingyouhere.Youwon’tvanish,likealltheothers,willyou?...What?Nextweek?...Oh,onyourvacation.Forhowlong?...Howdoyourateawholemonth’svacation?...IwishIcoulddothat,too—takeamonthoffatmyownexpense.Buttheywouldn’tletme...Really?Ienvyyou...Iwouldn’thaveenviedyouafewyearsago.Butnow—nowI’dliketogetaway.NowIenvyyou—ifyou’vebeenabletotakeamonthoffeverysummerfortwelveyears."
Itwasadarkroad,butitledinanewdirection.Reardenwalkedfromhismills,nottowardhishouse,buttowardthecityofPhiladelphia.
Itwasagreatdistancetowalk,buthehadwantedtodoittonight,ashehaddoneiteveryeveningofthepastweek.Hefeltatpeaceintheemptydarknessofthecountryside,withnothingbuttheblackshapesoftreesaroundhim,withnomotionbutthatofhisownbodyandofbranchesstirringinthewind,withnolightsbuttheslowsparksofthefirefliesflickeringthroughthehedges.Thetwohoursbetweenmillsandcitywerehisspanofrest.
HehadmovedoutofhishometoanapartmentinPhiladelphia.HehadgivennoexplanationtohismotherandPhilip,hehadsaidnothingexceptthattheycouldremaininthehouseiftheywishedandthatMissIveswouldtakecareoftheirbills.HehadaskedthemtotellLillian,whenshereturned,thatshewasnottoattempttoseehim.
Theyhadstaredathiminterrifiedsilence.
