Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
Heasked,lookingatherasifheknewthereasonofherquery,"Doyouwishtoaskforaspecialexception?"
"No,"sheanswered,holdinghisglance.
Nextmorning,afterbreakfast,whenshesatinherroom,carefullyplacingapatchonthesleeveofGalt’sshirt,withherdoorclosed,nottolethimseeherfumblingeffortatanunfamiliartask,sheheardthesoundofacarstoppinginfrontofthehouse.
SheheardGalt’sstepshurryingacrossthelivingroom,sheheardhimjerktheentrancedooropenandcalloutwiththejoyousangerofrelief:"It’sabouttime!"
Sherosetoherfeet,butstopped:sheheardhisvoice,itstoneabruptlychangedandgrave,asifinanswertotheshockofsomesightconfrontinghim:"What’sthematter?"
"Hello,John,"saidaclear,quietvoicethatsoundedsteady,butweightedwithexhaustion.
Shesatdownonherbed,feelingsuddenlydrainedofstrength:thevoicewasFrancisco’s.
SheheardGaltasking,histoneseverewithconcern,"Whatisit?"
"I’lltellyouafterwards."
"Whyareyousolate?"
"Ihavetoleaveagaininanhour."
"Toleave?"
"John,IjustcametotellyouthatIwon’tbeabletostayherethisyear.
