Атлант расправил плечи

           "Whydoyouwanttotalkaboutit?"Reardenasked,promptedbyamoment’sreluctantcompassion.

           "Letussay—bywayofgratitude,Mr.Rearden."

           "Gratitudetome?"

           "Ifyouwillacceptit."

           Rearden’svoicehardened."Ihaven’taskedforgratitude.Idon’tneedit."

           "Ihavenotsaidyouneededit.Butofallthosewhomyouaresavingfromthestormtonight,Iamtheonlyonewhowillofferit."

           Afteramoment’ssilence,Reardenasked,hisvoicelowwithasoundwhichwasalmostathreat,"Whatareyoutryingtodo?"

           "Iamcallingyourattentiontothenatureofthoseforwhomyouareworking."

           "Itwouldtakeamanwho’sneverdoneanhonestday’sworkinhislife,tothinkorsaythat."ThecontemptinRearden’svoicehadanoteofrelief;hehadbeendisarmedbyadoubtofhisjudgmentonthecharacterofhisadversary;nowhefeltcertainoncemore."Youwouldn’tunderstanditifItoldyouthatthemanwhoworks,worksforhimself,evenifhedoescarrythewholewretchedbunchofyoualong.Now

           I’llguesswhatyou’rethinking:goahead,saythatit’sevil,thatI’mselfish,conceited,heartless,cruel.Iam.Idon’twantanypartofthattripeaboutworkingforothers.I’mnot."

           Forthefirsttime,hesawthelookofapersonalreactioninFrancisco’seyes,thelookofsomethingeagerandyoung."Theonlythingthat’swronginwhatyousaid,"Franciscoanswered,"isthatyoupermitanyonetocallitevil."