Атлант расправил плечи

           Thiswastheroot,shethought,oftheguiltlessnessofhisface:hehadguessedandnamedthewordsshehadwantedtosparehim,hehadrejectedagoodwillthatwasnotbasedonhisvalues—andinproudcertaintyofbeingright,hehadmadeaboastofthatwhichshehadintendedasanaccusation.

           Aheadofthem,shesawawoodenpierprojectingintothewaterofthelake.Ayoungwomanlaystretchedonthesun-floodedplanks,watchingabatteryoffishingrods.Sheglancedupatthesoundofthecar,thenleapedtoherfeetinasingleswiftmovement,ashadetooswift,andrantotheroad.Sheworeslacks,rolledabovethekneesofherbarelegs,shehaddark,disheveledhairandlargeeyes.Galtwavedtoher.

           "Hello,John!Whendidyougetin?"shecalled.

           "Thismorning,"heanswered,smilinganddrivingon.

           DagnyjerkedherheadtolookbackandsawtheglancewithwhichtheyoungwomanstoodlookingafterGalt.Andeventhoughhopelessness,serenelyaccepted,waspartoftheworshipinthatglance,sheexperiencedafeelingshehadneverknownbefore:astabofjealousy.

           "Whoisthat?"sheasked.

           "Ourbestfishwife.SheprovidesthefishforHammond’sgrocerymarket."

           "Whatelseisshe?"

           "You’venoticedthatthere’sa‘whatelse’foreveryoneofushere?

           She’sawriter.Thekindofwriterwhowouldn’tbepublishedoutside.