Атлант расправил плечи
Anti-Life
"Ohhell,Lillian,you’reamess!"hesaidand,nottroublingtoreachforhishandkerchief,hestretchedouthishandtowipetheliquorwiththeflatofhispalm.Hisfingersslippedunderthegown’sneckline,closingoverherbreast,hisbreathcatchinginasuddengulp,likeahiccough.Hiseyelidsweredrawingclosed,buthecaughtaglimpseofherfaceleaningbackunresistingly,hermouthswollenwithrevulsion.
Whenhereachedforhermouth,herarmsembracedhimobedientlyandhermouthresponded,buttheresponsewasjustapressure,notakiss.
Heraisedhisheadtoglanceatherface.Herteethwerebaredinasmile,butshewasstaringpasthim,asifmockingsomeinvisiblepresence,hersmilelifeless,yetloudwithmalice,likethegrinofafleshlessskull.
Hejerkedhercloser,tostiflethesightandhisownshudder.Hishandsweregoingthroughtheautomaticmotionsofintimacy—andshecomplied,butinamannerthatmadehimfeelasifthebeatsofherarteriesunderhistouchweresnickeringgiggles.Theywerebothperforminganexpectedroutine,aroutineinventedbysomeoneandimposeduponthem,performingitinmockery,inhatred,indefilingparodyonitsinventors.
Hefeltasightless,heedlessfury,part-horror,part-pleasure—thehorrorofcommittinganacthewouldneverdareconfesstoanyone—thepleasureofcommittingitinblasphemousdefianceofthosetowhomhewouldnotdareconfessit.
