Атлант расправил плечи
Their Brothers’ Keepers
Peoplewerelookingatthemwithanxiouscuriosity,withenvy,withrespect,withthefearofoffendinganunknown,proudlyrigorousstandard,somealmostwithanairofapologythatseemedtosay:"Pleaseforgiveusforbeingmarried."Thereweresomewhohadalookofangrymalice,andafewwhohadalookofadmiration.
"Dagny,"heaskedsuddenly,"doyousupposehe’sinNewYork?"
"No.I’vecalledtheWayne-Falkland.Theytoldmethattheleaseonhissuitehadexpiredamonthagoandhedidnotrenewit."
"They’relookingforhimallovertheworld,"hesaid,smiling.
"They’llneverfindhim."Thesmilevanished."NeitherwillI."Hisvoiceslippedbacktotheflat,graytoneofduty:"Well,themillsareworking,butI’mnot.I’mdoingnothingbutrunningaroundthecountrylikeascavenger,searchingforillegalwaystopurchaserawmaterials.
Hiding,sneaking,lying—justtogetafewtonsoforeorcoalorcopper.
Theyhaven’tliftedtheirregulationsoffmyrawmaterials.TheyknowthatI’mpouringmoreMetalthanthequotastheygivemecouldproduce.Theydon’tcare."Headded,"TheythinkIdo."
"Tired,Hank?"
"Boredtodeath.
