Атлант расправил плечи

           "

           HedidnotlistentoHolloway’sassurancesofgratitude,henotedonlythatHollowaykeptrepeating,"AtsevenP.M.,Novemberfourth,Mr.Rearden...Novemberfourth..."asifthedatehadsomespecialsignificance.

           Reardendroppedthereceiverandlaybackinhischair,lookingattheglowoffurnaceflamesontheceilingofhisoffice.Heknewthattheconferencewasatrap;heknewalsothathewaswalkingintoitwithnothingforanytrapperstogain.

           TinkyHollowaydroppedthereceiver,inhisWashingtonoffice,andsatuptensely,frowning.ClaudeSlagenhop,presidentofFriendsofGlobalProgress,whohadsatinanarmchair,nervouslychewingamatchstick,glancedupathimandasked,"Notsogood?"

           Hollowayshookhishead."He’llcome,but...no,notsogood."

           Headded,"Idon’tthinkhe’lltakeit."

           "That’swhatmypunktoldme."

           "Iknow."

           "Thepunksaidwe’dbetternottryit."

           "Goddamnyourpunk!We’vegotto!We’llhavetoriskit!"

           ThepunkwasPhilipReardenwho,weeksago,hadreportedtoClaudeSlagenhop:"No,hewon’tletmein,hewon’tgivemeajob,I’vetried,asyouwantedmeto,I’vetriedmybest,butit’snouse,hewon’tletmesetfootinsidehismills.Andastohisframeofmind—listen,it’sbad.It’sworsethananythingIexpected.