Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
ShethoughtofHankReardenashesatathisdesk,now,twothousandmilesaway,hisfacetightenedintoaretainingwallagainstagony,asithadbeentightenedunderalltheblowsofallhisyears—andshefeltadesperatewishtofighthisbattle,tofightforhim,forhispast,forthattensionofhisfaceandthecouragethatfedit—asshewantedtofightfortheCometthatcrawledbyalasteffortacrossadesertonacrumblingtrack.Sheshuddered,closinghereyes,feelingasifshewereguiltyofdoubletreason,feelingasifsheweresuspendedinspacebetweenthisvalleyandtherestoftheearth,withnorighttoeither.
ThefeelingvanishedwhenshesatfacingGaltacrossthedinnertable.Hewaswatchingher,openlyandwithanuntroubledlook,asifherpresencewerenormal—andasifthesightofherwereallhewishedtoallowintohisconsciousness.
Sheleanedbackalittle,asifcomplyingwiththemeaningofhisglance,andsaiddryly,efficiently,indeliberatedenial,"Ihavecheckedyourshirtsandfoundonewithtwobuttonsmissing,andanotherwiththeleftelbowwornthrough.Doyouwishmetomendthem?"
"Why,yes—ifyoucandoit."
"Icandoit.
