Атлант расправил плечи
Anti-Life
No!—wastheonlyconsciouswordinherbrain—no!—no!—no!—notyourway,notyourworld—evenifthis"no"isallthat’stobeleftofmine!
Itwasinthedarkesthourofthenight,inanalleyamongwharfsandwarehousesthatthesocialworkersawher.Thesocialworkerwasawomanwhosegrayfaceandgraycoatblendedwiththewallsofthedistrict.Shesawayounggirlwearingasuittoosmartandexpensivefortheneighborhood,withnohat,nopurse,withabrokenheel,disheveledhairandabruiseatthecornerofhermouth,agirlstaggeringblindly,notknowingsidewalksfrompavements.Thestreetwasonlyanarrowcrackbetweenthesheer,blankwallsofstoragestructures,butarayoflightfellthroughafogdankwiththeodorofrottingwater;astoneparapetendedthestreetontheedgeofavastblackholemergingriverandsky.
Thesocialworkerapproachedherandaskedseverely,"Areyouintrouble?"—andsawonewaryeye,theotherhiddenbyalockofhair,andthefaceofawildcreaturewhohasforgottenthesoundofhumanvoices,butlistensastoadistantecho,withsuspicion,yetalmostwithhope.
Thesocialworkerseizedherarm."It’sadisgracetocometosuchastate...ifyousocietygirlshadsomethingtodobesidesindulgingyourdesiresandchasingpleasures,youwouldn’tbewandering,drunkasatramp,atthishourofthenight..
