Атлант расправил плечи
“This is John Galt speaking”
ShecametothebroadcastingstudiowithJamesTaggartasapolicemanatonesideofherandEddieWillersasabodyguardattheother.
Taggart’sfacewasresentfulandtense,Eddie’s—resigned,yetwonderingandcurious.Astagesetofpasteboardwallshadbeenerectedinacornerofthevast,dimspace,representingastifflytraditionalsuggestionofacrossbetweenastatelydrawingroomandamodeststudy.Asemicircleofemptyarmchairsfilledtheset,suggestingagroupingfromafamilyalbum,withmicrophonesdanglinglikebaitattheendoflongpolesextendedforfishingamongthechairs.
Thebestleadershipofthecountry,thatstoodaboutinnervousclusters,hadthelookofaremnantsaleinabankruptstore:shesawWesleyMouch,EugeneLawson,ChickMorrison,TinkyHolloway,Dr.FloydFerris,Dr.SimonPritchett,MaChalmers,FredKinnan,andaseedyhandfulofbusinessmenamongwhomthehalf-scared,half-flatteredfigureofMr.MowenoftheAmalgamatedSwitchandSignalCompanywas,incredibly,intendedtorepresentanindustrialtycoon.
Butthefigurethatgaveheraninstant’sshockwasDr.RobertStadler.Shehadnotknownthatafacecouldagesogreatlywithinthebriefspaceofoneyear:thelookoftimelessenergy,ofboyisheagerness,wasgone,andnothingremainedofthefaceexceptthelinesofcontemptuousbitterness.
