Атлант расправил плечи

           Hisbodyseemeddesignedasanexerciseinconsistencyofstyle,astylemadeofgauntness,oftightflesh,longlegsandswiftmovements.Hisfeatureshadthefineprecisionofsculpture.Hishairwasblackandstraight,sweptback.Thesuntanofhisskinintensifiedthestartlingcolorofhiseyes:theywereapure,clearblue.Hisfacewasopen,itsrapidchangesofexpressionreflectingwhateverhefelt,asifhehadnothingtohide.Theblueeyeswerestillandchangeless,nevergivingahintofwhathethought.

           Hesatonthefloorofhisdrawingroom,dressedinsleepingpajamasofthinblacksilk.Themarblesspreadonthecarpetaroundhimweremadeofthesemi-preciousstonesofhisnativecountry:carnelianandrockcrystal.HedidnotrisewhenDagnyentered.Hesatlookingupather,andacrystalmarblefelllikeateardropoutofhishand.Hesmiled,theunchanged,insolent,brilliantsmileofhischildhood.

           "Hi,Slug!"

           Sheheardherselfanswering,irresistibly,helplessly,happily:

           "Hi,Frisco!"

           Shewaslookingathisface;itwasthefaceshehadknown.Itborenomarkofthekindoflifehehadled,norofwhatshehadseenontheirlastnighttogether.Therewasnosignoftragedy,nobitterness,notension—onlytheradiantmockery,maturedandstressed,thelookofdangerouslyunpredictableamusement,andthegreat,guiltlessserenityofspirit.Butthis,shethought,wasimpossible;thiswasmoreshockingthanalltherest.