Атлант расправил плечи

           Shelaystill—asthemotionless,thenthequiveringobjectofanactwhichhedidsimply,unhesitatingly,asofright,therightoftheunendurablepleasureitgavethem.

           Henamedwhatitmeanttobothoftheminthefirstwordshespokeafterwards.Hesaid,"Wehadtolearnitfromeachother."Shelookedathislongfigurestretchedonthegrassbesideher,heworeblackslacksandablackshirt,hereyesstoppedonthebeltpulledtightacrosshisslenderwaistline,andshefeltthestabofanemotionthatwaslikeagaspofpride,prideinherownershipofhisbody.Shelayonherback,lookingupatthesky,feelingnodesiretomoveorthinkorknowthattherewasanytimebeyondthismoment.

           Whenshecamehome,whenshelayinbed,nakedbecauseherbodyhadbecomeanunfamiliarpossession,toopreciousforthetouchofanightgown,becauseitgaveherpleasuretofeelnakedandtofeelasifthewhitesheetsofherbedweretouchedbyFrancisco’sbody—whenshethoughtthatshewouldnotsleep,becauseshedidnotwanttorestandlosethemostwonderfulexhaustionshehadeverknown—herlastthoughtwasofthetimeswhenshehadwantedtoexpress,butfoundnowaytodoit,aninstant’sknowledgeofafeelinggreaterthanhappiness,thefeelingofone’sblessinguponthewholeoftheearth,thefeelingofbeinginlovewiththefactthatoneexistsandinthiskindofworld;shethoughtthattheactshehadlearnedwasthewayoneexpressedit.