Атлант расправил плечи

           Thompson;hegaveabiggrintothenation,thenturnedandlookedoffscreen,tohisleft,withanairoftriumphantexpectancy."Ladiesandgentlemen,"theannouncersaidsolemnly,"JohnGalt!"

           GoodGod!—thoughtDagny—whataretheydoing?Fromthescreen,thefaceofJohnGaltwaslookingatthenation,thefacewithoutpainorfearorguilt,implacablebyvirtueofserenity,invulnerablebyvirtueofself-esteem.Thisface—shethought—amongthoseothers?

           Whateveritisthatthey’replanning,shethought,it’sundone—nothingmorecanorhastobesaid—there’stheproductofonecodeandoftheother,there’sthechoice,andwhoeverishumanwillknowit.

           "Mr.Galt’spersonalsecretary,"saidtheannouncer,whilethecamerablurredhastilypastthenextfaceandwenton."Mr.Clarence‘Chick’Morrison...AdmiralHomerDawley...Mr.—"

           Shelookedatthefacesaroundher,wondering:Didtheyseethecontrast?Didtheyknowit?Didtheyseehim?Didtheywanthimtobereal?

           "Thisbanquet,"saidChickMorrison,whohadtakenoverasmasterofceremonies,"isinhonorofthegreatestfigureofourtime,theablestproducer,themanofthe‘know-how,’thenewleaderofoureconomy—JohnGalt!Ifyouhaveheardhisextraordinaryradiospeech,youcanhavenodoubtthathecanmakethingswork.Nowheisheretotellyouthathewillmakethemworkforyou.