Атлант расправил плечи

The Climax of the d’Anconias

           Sheexperiencedanemotionofchastitythatmadehershrink,notfromthedesiresofherbody,butfromanycontactwiththemindswhoheldthisdoctrine.

           Thatwinter,FranciscocametoseeherinNewYork,atunpredictableintervals.HewouldflydownfromCleveland,withoutwarning,twiceaweek,orhewouldvanishformonths.Shewouldsitonthefloorofherroom,surroundedbychartsandblueprints,shewouldhearaknockatherdoorandsnap,"I’mbusy!"thenhearamockingvoiceask,"Areyou?"andleaptoherfeettothrowthedooropen,tofindhimstandingthere.Theywouldgotoanapartmenthehadrentedinthecity,asmallapartmentinaquietneighborhood."Francisco,"sheaskedhimonce,insuddenastonishment,"I’myourmistress,amInot?"Helaughed."That’swhatyouare."Shefelttheprideawomanissupposedtoexperienceatbeinggrantedthetitleofwife.

           Inthemanymonthsofhisabsence,sheneverwonderedwhetherhewastruetoherornot;sheknewhewas.Sheknew,eventhoughshewastooyoungtoknowthereason,thatindiscriminatedesireandunselectiveindulgencewerepossibleonlytothosewhoregardedsexandthemselvesasevil.

           SheknewlittleaboutFrancisco’slife.Itwashislastyearincollege;heseldomspokeofit,andsheneverquestionedhim.Shesuspectedthathewasworkingtoohard,becauseshesaw,attimes,theunnaturallybrightlookofhisface,thelookofexhilarationthatcomesfromdrivingone’senergybeyonditslimit.

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