Атлант расправил плечи
Their Brothers’ Keepers
Why?"
"Thethingwenttoosmoothly.TherewereafewpointsatwhichIexpectedpressureandhintsforsomeextras,buttheboyssailedpastandtooknoadvantageofit.Lookstomeasifordershadcomefromonhightotreatyougentlyandletyouhaveyourway.Aretheyplanningsomethingnewagainstyourmills?""NotthatIknowof,"saidRearden—andwasastonishedtohearinhismind:NotthatIcare.
Itwasonthesameafternoon,atthemills,thathesawtheWetNursehurryingtowardhim—agangling,coltishfigurewithapeculiarmixtureofbrusqueness,awkwardnessanddecisiveness.
"Mr.Rearden,Iwouldliketospeaktoyou."Hisvoicewasdiffident,yetoddlyfirm.
"Goahead."
"There’ssomethingIwanttoaskyou."Theboy’sfacewassolemnandtaut."IwantyoutoknowthatIknowyoushouldrefuseme,butIwanttoaskitjustthesame...and...andifit’spresumptuous,thenjusttellmetogotohell."
"Okay.Tryit."
"Mr.Rearden,wouldyougivemeajob?"Itwastheefforttosoundnormalthatbetrayedthedaysofstrugglebehindthequestion."IwanttoquitwhatI’mdoingandgotowork.Imean,realwork—insteelmaking,likeIthoughtI’dstartedto,once.Iwanttoearnmykeep.I’mtiredofbeingabedbug.
