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.