Атлант расправил плечи
The Sign of the Dollar
"Whenamanthinks,thereisaspotoffirealiveinhismind—andit’sproperthatheshouldhavetheburningpointofacigaretteashisoneexpression."
"Iwishyou’dtellmewhomakesthem,"shesaid,inthetoneofahopelessplea.
Hechuckledgood-naturedly."Icantellyouthismuch:they’remadebyafriendofmine,forsale,but—notbeingacommoncarrier—hesellsthemonlytohisfriends."
"Sellmethatpackage,willyou?"
"Idon’tthinkyou’llbeabletoaffordit,MissTaggart,but—allright,ifyouwish."
"Howmuchisit?"
"Fivecents."
"Fivecents?"sherepeated,bewildered.
"Fivecents—"hesaid,andadded,"ingold."
Shestopped,staringathim."Ingold?"
"Yes,MissTaggart."
"Well,what’syourrateofexchange?Howmuchisitinournormalmoney?"
"Thereisnorateofexchange,MissTaggart.Noamountofphysical—orspiritual—currency,whosesolestandardofvalueisthedecreeofMr.WesleyMouch,willbuythesecigarettes."
"Isee."
Hereachedintohispocket,tookoutthepackageandhandedittoher."I’llgivethemtoyou,MissTaggart,"hesaid,"becauseyou’veearnedthemmanytimesover—andbecauseyouneedthemforthesamepurposewedo.
