Атлант расправил плечи

           "Oh,gotohell!"hecried,leapingtohisfeet,flinginghisglasstosmashonthefloorandrushingoutoftheroom.

           Shesatatthetable,notmoving,foralongtime,thenroseslowlyandpressedthebell.

           Shewalkedtoherroom,herstepsunnaturallyeven,sheopenedthedoorofacloset,shereachedforasuitandapairofshoes,shetookoffthehousecoat,movingwithcautiousprecision,asifherlifedependedonnotjarringanythingaboutorwithinher.Sheheldontoasinglethought:thatshehadtogetoutofthishouse—justgetoutofitforawhile,ifonlyforthenexthour—andthen,later,shewouldbeabletofaceallthathadtobefaced.

           Thelineswereblurringonthepaperbeforeherand,raisingherhead,Dagnyrealizedthatithadlongsincegrowndark.

           Shepushedthepapersaside,unwillingtoturnonthelamp,permittingherselftheluxuryofidlenessanddarkness.Itcutherofffromthecitybeyondthewindowsofherlivingroom.Thecalendarinthedistancesaid:August5.

           Themonthbehindherhadgone,leavingnothingbuttheblankofdeadtime.Ithadgoneintotheplanless,thanklessworkofracingfromemergencytoemergency,ofdelayingthecollapseofarailroad—amonthlikeawastepileofdisconnecteddays,eachgiventoavertingthedisasterofthemoment.