Атлант расправил плечи

           Shehadcounteredwithasuitforhalfofherhusband’smillions,andwitharecitalofhisprivatelifewhich,shesaid,madeherslookinnocent.Allofthathadbeensplashedoverthenewspapersforweeks.ButSeñord’Anconiahadnothingtosayaboutit,whenthereportersquestionedhim.WouldhedenyMrs.Vail’sstory,theyasked."Ineverdenyanything,"heanswered.Thereportershadbeenastonishedbyhissuddenarrivalintown;theyhadthoughtthathewouldnotwishtobetherejustwhentheworstofthescandalwasabouttoexplodeonthefrontpages.Buttheyhadbeenwrong.Franciscod‘Anconiaaddedonemorecommenttothereasonsforhisarrival."Iwantedtowitnessthefarce,"hesaid.

           Dagnyletthepapersliptothefloor.Shesat,bentover,herheadonherarms.Shedidnotmove,butthestrandsofhair,hangingdowntoherknees,trembledinsuddenjoltsonceinawhile.

           ThegreatchordsofHalley’smusicwenton,fillingtheroom,piercingtheglassofthewindows,streamingoutoverthecity.Shewashearingthemusic.Itwas

           her

           quest,hercry.

           JamesTaggartglancedaboutthelivingroomofhisapartment,wonderingwhattimeitwas;hedidnotfeellikemovingtofindhiswatch.Hesatinanarmchair,dressedinwrinkledpajamas,barefooted;itwastoomuchtroubletolookforhisslippers.Thelightofthegrayskyinthewindowshurthiseyes,stillstickywithsleep.Hefelt,insidehisskull,thenastyheavinesswhichisabouttobecomeaheadache.Hewonderedangrilywhyhehadstumbledoutintothelivingroom.