Атлант расправил плечи
The Climax of the d’Anconias
"Whatareyouafter?"
"Money."
"Don’tyouhaveenough?"
"Inhislifetime,everyoneofmyancestorsraisedtheproductionofd‘AnconiaCopperbyabouttenpercent.Iintendtoraiseitbyonehundred."
"Whatfor?"
Jimasked,insarcasticimitationofFrancisco’svoice.
"WhenIdie,Ihopetogotoheaven—whateverthehellthatis-andIwanttobeabletoaffordthepriceofadmission."
"Virtueisthepriceofadmission,"Jimsaidhaughtily.
"That’swhatImean,James.SoIwanttobepreparedtoclaimthegreatestvirtueofall—thatIwasamanwhomademoney."
"Anygraftercanmakemoney."
"James,yououghttodiscoversomedaythatwordshaveanexactmeaning."
Franciscosmiled;itwasasmileofradiantmockery.Watchingthem,DagnythoughtsuddenlyofthedifferencebetweenFranciscoandherbrotherJim.Bothofthemsmiledderisively.ButFranciscoseemedtolaughatthingsbecausehesawsomethingmuchgreater.Jimlaughedasifhewantedtoletnothingremaingreat.
ShenoticedtheparticularqualityofFrancisco’ssmileagain,onenight,whenshesatwithhimandEddieatabonfiretheyhadbuiltinthewoods.Theglowofthefireenclosedthemwithinafenceofbroken,movingstripsthatheldpiecesoftreetrunks,branchesanddistantstars.Shefeltasiftherewerenothingbeyondthatfence,nothingbutblackemptiness,withthehintofsomebreath-stopping,frighteningpromise...likethefuture.
