Атлант расправил плечи

           Itwasamockingglancethatseemedtoseestraightthroughherclothesandthroughhermind.Anditseemedtosaythathehadwon.

           ShesatatherdeskatRockdale,thatnight,aloneintheoldstationbuilding,lookingattheskyinthewindow.Itwasthehourshelikedbest,whenthetoppanesofthewindowgrewlighter,andtherailsofthetrackoutsidebecamethreadsofblurredsilveracrossthelowerpanes.Sheturnedoffherlampandwatchedthevast,soundlessmotionoflightoveramotionlessearth.Thingsstoodstill,notaleaftrembledonthebranches,whiletheskyslowlylostitscolorandbecameanexpansethatlookedlikeaspreadofglowingwater.

           Hertelephonewassilentatthishour,almostasifmovementhadstoppedeverywherealongthesystem.Sheheardstepsapproachingoutside,suddenly,closetothedoor.Franciscocamein.Hehadnevercomeherebefore,butshewasnotastonishedtoseehim.

           "Whatareyoudoingupatthishour?"sheasked.

           "Ididn’tfeellikesleeping."

           "Howdidyougethere?Ididn’thearyourcar."

           "Iwalked."

           Momentspassedbeforesherealizedthatshehadnotaskedhimwhyhecameandthatshedidnotwanttoaskit.

           Hewanderedthroughtheroom,lookingattheclustersofwaybillsthathungonthewalls,atthecalendarwithapictureoftheTaggartCometcaughtinaproudsurgeofmotiontowardtheonlooker.Heseemedcasuallyathome,asifhefeltthattheplacebelongedtothem,astheyalwaysfeltwherevertheywenttogether.Buthedidnotseemtowanttotalk.