Атлант расправил плечи
The Non-commercial
"Unlessyoumean—inordertogainmyconfidence?"
"No.Idon’tlikepeoplewhospeakorthinkintermsofgaininganybody’sconfidence.Ifone’sactionsarehonest,onedoesnotneedthepredatedconfidenceofothers,onlytheirrationalperception.Thepersonwhocravesamoralblankcheckofthatkind,hasdishonestintentions,whetherheadmitsittohimselfornot."
Rearden’sstartledglanceathimwasliketheinvoluntarythrustofahandgraspingforsupportinadesperateneed.Theglancebetrayedhowmuchhewantedtofindthesortofmanhethoughthewasseeing.ThenReardenloweredhiseyes,almostclosingthem,slowly,shuttingoutthevisionandtheneed.Hisfacewashard;ithadanexpressionofseverity,aninnerseveritydirectedathimself;itlookedaustereandlonely.
"Allright,"hesaidtonelessly."Whatdoyouwant,ifit’snotmyconfidence?"
"Iwanttolearntounderstandyou."
"Whatfor?"
"Forareasonofmyownwhichneednotconcernyouatpresent."
"Whatdoyouwanttounderstandaboutme?"
Franciscolookedsilentlyoutatthedarkness.Thefireofthemillswasdyingdown.Therewasonlyafainttingeofredleftontheedgeoftheearth,justenoughtooutlinethescrapsofcloudsrippedbythetorturedbattleofthestorminthesky.Dimshapeskeptsweepingthroughspaceandvanishing,shapeswhichwerebranches,butlookedasiftheywerethefuryofthewindmadevisible.
"It’saterriblenightforanyanimalcaughtunprotectedonthatplain,"saidFranciscod‘Anconia.
