Атлант расправил плечи
By our love
Itwilladdaboutthirty-sixhourstothetranscontinentalschedule—buttherewillbeatranscontinentalschedule.ThenhavethemgetformeoutofthefilestheoldmapsofourroadasitwasbeforeNatTaggart’sgrandsonbuiltthetunnel."
"The...what?"Hedidnotraisehisvoice,butthecatchofhisbreathwasthebreakofemotionhehadwantedtoavoid.
Herfacedidnotchange,butafaultnoteinhervoiceacknowledgedhim,anoteofgentleness,notreproof:"Theoldmapsofthedaysbeforethetunnel.We’regoingback,Eddie.Let’shopewecan.No,wewon’trebuildthetunnel.There’snowaytodoitnow.ButtheoldgradethatcrossedtheRockiesisstillthere.Itcanbereclaimed.Onlyitwillbehardtogettherailforitandthementodoit.Particularlythemen."
Heknew,ashehadknownfromthefirst,thatshehadseenhistearsandthatshehadnotwalkedpastinindifference,eventhoughherclear,tonelessvoiceandunmovingfacegavehimnosignoffeeling.
Therewassomequalityinhermanner,whichhesensedbutcouldnottranslate.Yetthefeelingitgavehim,translated,wasasifsheweresayingtohim:Iknow,Iunderstand,Iwouldfeelcompassionandgratitude,ifwewerealiveandfreetofeel,butwe’renot,arewe,Eddie?—we’reonadeadplanet,likethemoon,wherewemustmove,butdarenotstopforabreathoffeelingorwe’lldiscoverthatthereisnoairtobreathe.
