Атлант расправил плечи
The Theme
Thepressureinhischestandtemples,thoughtEddieWillers,wasthestrainoftheefforthewasmaking; hehaddecidedtomaketheissueclearforonce,andtheissuewassoclear,hethought,thatnothingcouldbaritfromTaggart’sunderstanding,unlessitwasthefailureofhisownpresentation. Sohehadtriedhard,buthewasfailing,justashehadalwaysfailedinalloftheirdiscussions;nomatterwhathesaid,theyneverseemedtobetalkingaboutthesamesubject.
"Jim,whatareyousaying?Doesitmatterthatnobodyblamesus—whentheroadisfallingapart?"
JamesTaggartsmiled;itwasathinsmile,amusedandcold. "It’stouching,Eddie,"hesaid. "It’stouching—yourdevotiontoTaggartTranscontinental. Ifyoudon’tlookout,you’llturnintooneofthoserealfeudalserfs."
"That’swhatIam,Jim."
"ButmayIaskwhetheritisyourjobtodiscussthesematterswithme?"
"No,itisn’t."
"Thenwhydon’tyoulearnthatwehavedepartmentstotakecareofthings? Whydon’tyoureportallthistowhoever’sconcerned?Whydon’tyoucryonmydearsister’sshoulder?"
"LookJim,Iknowit’snotmyplacetotalktoyou. ButIcan’tunderstandwhat’sgoingon. Idon’tknowwhatitisthatyourproperadviserstellyou,orwhytheycan’tmakeyouunderstand.SoIthoughtI’dtrytotellyoumyself."
