Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
"I’llrunalong,"hesaid."Mywifeiswaitingforme."
"What?"shegasped.
"Mywife,"herepeatedgaily,asifhehadnotunderstoodthereasonofhershock.
"Whoisyourwife?"
"KayLudlow."
Theimplicationsthatstruckherweremorethanshecouldbeartoconsider."When...whenwereyoumarried?"
"Fouryearsago."
"Howcouldyoushowyourselfanywherelongenoughtogothroughaweddingceremony?"
"Weweremarriedhere,byJudgeNarragansett."
"Howcan"—shetriedtostop,butthewordsburstinvoluntarily,inhelplesslyindignantprotest,whetheragainsthim,fateortheouterworld,shecouldnottell—"howcanshelivethroughelevenmonthsofthinkingthatyou,atanymoment,mightbe...?"Shedidnotfinish.
Hewassmiling,butshesawtheenormoussolemnityofthatwhichheandhiswifehadneededtoearntheirrighttothiskindofsmile."Shecanlivethroughit,MissTaggart,becausewedonotholdthebeliefthatthisearthisarealmofmiserywheremanisdoomedtodestruction.
Wedonotthinkthattragedyisournaturalfateandwedonotliveinchronicdreadofdisaster.Wedonotexpectdisasteruntilwehavespecificreasontoexpectit—andwhenweencounterit,wearefreetofightit.Itisnothappiness,butsufferingthatweconsiderunnatural.
