Атлант расправил плечи
By our love
Was—and,someday,willbeagain."
Shesatstill,tryingtograspalltheimplicationsofwhatshenowgraspedonlyasthenumbnessofshock.Inthesilence,themusicoftheradiosymphonywenton,andtherhythmofthechordsreachedherliketheslow,solemnpoundingofsteps,whileshestruggledtoseeatoncethewholeprogressionoftwelveyears:thetorturedboywhocalledforhelponherbreasts—themanwhosatonthefloorofadrawingroom,playingmarblesandlaughingatthedestructionofgreatindustries—themanwhocried,"Mylove,Ican’t!"whilerefusingtohelpher—themanwhodrankatoast,inthedimboothofabarroom,totheyearswhichSebastiand’Anconiahadhadtowait...
"Francisco...ofalltheguessesItriedtomakeaboutyou...Ineverthoughtofit...Ineverthoughtthatyouwereoneofthosemenwhohadquit..."
"Iwasoneofthefirstofthem."
"Ithoughtthattheyalwaysvanished..."
"Well,hadn’tI?Wasn’tittheworstofwhatIdidtoyou—thatIleftyoulookingatacheapplayboywhowasnottheFranciscod’Anconiayouhadknown?"
"Yes..."shewhispered,"onlytheworstwasthatIcouldn’tbelieveit...Ineverdid...ItwasFranciscod’AnconiathatIkeptseeingeverytimeIsawyou..."
"Iknow.AndIknowwhatitdidtoyou.Itriedtohelpyouunderstand,butitwastoosoontotellyou.
