Атлант расправил плечи
The Face without Pain or Fear or Guilt
Whydidn’the?"
Sheshrugged,spreadingherhandsinagestureofhelplesssadness,becausetheybothknewtheanswer.Sheasked,"Hedidmeanagreatdealtoyou,didn’the?"
"Hedoes."
Thetwodotsoffireatthetipsoftheircigaretteshadmovedslowlytothetipsoftheirfingers,withthesmallglowofanoccasionalflareandthesoftcrumblingofashesassolemovementinthesilence,whenthedoorbellrang.Theyknewthatitwasnotthemantheywishedbutcouldnothopetoseereturn,andshefrownedwithsuddenangerasshewenttoopenthedoor.Ittookheramomenttorememberthattheinnocuouslycourteousfigureshesawbowingtoherwithastandardsmileofwelcomewastheassistantmanageroftheapartmenthouse.
"Goodevening,MissTaggart.We’resogladtoseeyouback.Ijustcameondutyandheardthatyouhadreturnedandwantedtogreetyouinperson."
"Thankyou."Shestoodatthedoor,notmovingtoadmithim.
"Ihavealetterthatcameforyouaboutaweekago,MissTaggart,"hesaid,reachingintohispocket."Itlookedasifitmightbeimportant,butbeingmarked‘personal,’itwasobviouslynotintendedtobesenttoyourofficeand,besides,theydidnotknowyouraddress,either—sonotknowingwheretoforwardit,IkeptitinoursafeandIthoughtI’ddeliverittoyouinperson.
