Атлант расправил плечи
The Utopia of Greed
Idonotcaretobeadmiredcauselessly,emotionally,intuitively,instinctively—orblindly,Idonotcareforblindnessinanyform,Ihavetoomuchtoshow—orfordeafness,Ihavetoomuchtosay.Idonotcaretobeadmiredbyanyone’sheart—onlybysomeone’shead.AndwhenIfindacustomerwiththatinvaluablecapacity,thenmyperformanceisamutualtradetomutualprofit.Anartistisatrader,MissTaggart,thehardestandmostexactingofalltraders.Nowdoyouunderstandme?"
"Yes,"shesaidincredulously,"Ido,"incredulouslybecauseshewashearingherownsymbolofmoralpride,chosenbyamanshehadleastexpectedtochooseit.
"Ifyoudo,whydidyoulookquitesotragicjustamomentago?
Whatisitthatyouregret?"
"Theyearswhenyourworkhasremainedunheard."
"Butithasn’t.I’vegiventwoorthreeconcertseveryyear.Here,inGalt’sGulch.Iamgivingonenextweek.Ihopeyou’llcome.Thepriceofadmissionistwenty-fivecents."
Shecouldnothelplaughing.Hesmiled,thenhisfaceslippedslowlyintoearnestness,asunderthetideofsomeunspokencontemplationofhisown.Helookedatthedarknessbeyondthewindow,ataspotwhere,inaclearingofthebranches,withthemoonlightdrainingitscolor,leavingonlyitsmetallicluster,thesignofthedollarhunglikeacurveofshiningsteelengravedonthesky.
