Атлант расправил плечи

           "Myancestorandyours,"FranciscotoldDagny,"wouldhavelikedeachother."

           Throughtheyearsofherchildhood,Dagnylivedinthefuture—intheworldsheexpectedtofind,whereshewouldnothavetofeelcontemptorboredom.Butforonemontheachyear,shewasfree.Foronemonth,shecouldliveinthepresent.WhensheraceddownthehilltomeetFranciscod‘Anconia,itwasareleasefromprison.

           "Hi,Slug!"

           "Hi,Frisco!"

           Theyhadbothresentedthenicknames,atfirst.Shehadaskedhimangrily,"Whatdoyouthinkyoumean?"Hehadanswered,"Incaseyoudon’tknowit,‘Slug’meansagreatfireinalocomotivefirebox.""Wheredidyoupickthatup?""FromthegentlemenalongtheTaggartiron."Hespokefivelanguages,andhespokeEnglishwithoutatraceofaccent,aprecise,culturedEnglishdeliberatelymixedwithslang.ShehadretaliatedbycallinghimFrisco.Hehadlaughed,amusedandannoyed."Ifyoubarbarianshadtodegradethenameofagreatcityofyours,youcouldatleastrefrainfromdoingittome."Buttheyhadgrowntolikethenicknames.

           Ithadstartedinthedaysoftheirsecondsummertogether,whenhewastwelveyearsoldandshewasten.Thatsummer,Franciscobeganvanishingeverymorningforsomepurposenobodycoulddiscover.Hewentoffonhisbicyclebeforedawn,andreturnedintimetoappearatthewhiteandcrystaltablesetforlunchontheterrace,hismannercourteouslypunctualandalittletooinnocent.Helaughed,refusingtoanswer,whenDagnyandEddiequestionedhim.