Атлант расправил плечи

           Ifthiswasathoughtofthegravestimportance,shedidnotknowit;nothingcouldbegraveinauniversefromwhichtheconceptofpainhadbeenwipedout;shewasnottheretoweighherconclusion;shewasasleep,afaintsmileonherface,inasilent,luminousroomfilledwiththelightofmorning.

           Thatsummer,shemethiminthewoods,inhiddencornersbytheriver,onthefloorofanabandonedshack,inthecellarofthehouse.Theseweretheonlytimeswhenshelearnedtofeelasenseofbeauty—bylookingupatoldwoodenraftersoratthesteelplateofanair-conditioningmachinethatwhirredtensely,rhythmicallyabovetheirheads.Sheworeslacksorcottonsummerdresses,yetshewasneversofeminineaswhenshestoodbesidehim,sagginginhisarms,abandoningherselftoanythinghewished,inopenacknowledgmentofhispowertoreducehertohelplessnessbythepleasurehehadthepowertogiveher.Hetaughthereverymannerofsensualityhecouldinvent."Isn’titwonderfulthatourbodiescangiveussomuchpleasure?"hesaidtoheronce,quitesimply.Theywerehappyandradiantlyinnocent.Theywerebothincapableoftheconceptionthatjoyissin.

           Theykepttheirsecretfromtheknowledgeofothers,notasashamefulguilt,butasathingthatwasimmaculatelytheirs,beyondanyone’srightofdebateorappraisal.Sheknewthegeneraldoctrineonsex,heldbypeopleinoneformoranother,thedoctrinethatsexwasanuglyweaknessofman’slowernature,tobecondonedregretfully.