Атлант расправил плечи

           "Hewasyourfriend,wasn’the?"

           Hervoicehadatonehehadneverearnedbefore,thetoneofanemotionwhichhehaddrawnfrompeopleonlybyfraud,butwhichnow,forthefirsttime,wasgrantedwithfullawarenesstothereal,theactualnatureofhisdeed:atoneofadmiration.

           Suddenly,heknewthatthiswasthegoalofhisrestlesshours,thiswasthepleasurehehaddespairedoffinding,thiswasthecelebrationhehadwanted.

           "Let’shaveadrink,Lil."hesaid.

           Pouringtheliquor,heglancedatheracrosstheroom,asshelaystretchedlimplyinherchair."Lethimgethisdivorce,"hesaid,"Hewon’thavethelastword.Theywill.Thebutcher’sassistants.SenorGonzalesandCuffyMeigs."

           Shedidnotanswer.Whenheapproached,shetooktheglassfromhimwithasloppilyindifferentsweepofherhand.Shedrank,notinthemannerofasocialgesture,butlikealonelydrinkerinasaloon—forthephysicalsakeoftheliquor.

           Hesatdownonthearmofthedavenport,improperlyclosetoher,andsippedhisdrink,watchingherface.Afterawhile,heasked,"Whatdoeshethinkofme?"

           Thequestiondidnotseemtoastonishher."Hethinksyou’reafool,"sheanswered."Hethinkslife’stooshorttohavetonoticeyourexistence."

           "He’dnoticeit,if—"Hestopped.

           "—ifyoubashedhimovertheheadwithaclub?I’mnottoosure.