Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
...Afterawhile,shelosttheglowofthatknowledge,andtherewasnothingleftbutpainandthepalmsthatwerepressedtothesheet—andthealmostindifferentwonderwhetherhe,too,wasawakeandfightingthesametorture.
Sheheardnosoundinthehouseandsawnolightfromhiswindowonthetreetrunksoutside.Afteralongwhilesheheard,fromthedarknessofhisroom,twosoundsthatgaveherafullanswer;sheknewthathewasawakeandthathewouldnotcome;itwasthesoundofastepandtheclickofacigarettelighter.
RichardHalleystoppedplaying,turnedawayfromthepianoandglancedatDagny,Hesawherdropherfacewiththeinvoluntarymovementofhidingtoostronganemotion,herose,smiledandsaidsoftly,"Thankyou."
"Ohno..."shewhispered,knowingthatthegratitudewashersandthatitwasfutiletoexpressit.Shewasthinkingoftheyearswhentheworkshehadjustplayedforherwerebeingwritten,here,inhissmallcottageonaledgeofthevalley,whenallthisprodigalmagnificenceofsoundwasbeingshapedbyhimasaflowingmonumenttoaconceptwhichequatesthesenseoflifewiththesenseofbeauty—whileshehadwalkedthroughthestreetsofNewYorkinahopelessquestforsomeformofenjoyment,withthescreechesofamodernsymphonyrunningafterher,asifspitbytheinfectedthroatofaloud-speakercoughingitsmalicioushatredofexistence.
"ButImeanit,"saidRichardHalley,smiling.
