Атлант расправил плечи

           Shehadstoppedforblankmomentsinthemiddleofheroffice,paralyzedbydespairattherigidityoftimewhichshecouldnotstretchanyfurther—onadaywhenurgentappointmentshadsucceededoneanother,whenshehaddiscussedwornDiesels,rottingfreightcars,failingsignalsystems,fallingrevenues,whilethinkingofthelatestemergencyontheRioNorteconstruction;whenshehadtalked,withthevisionoftwostreaksofgreen-bluemetalcuttingacrosshermind;whenshehadinterruptedthediscussions,realizingsuddenlywhyacertainnewsitemhaddisturbedher,andseizedthetelephonereceivertocalllong-distance,tocallhercontractor,tosay,"Wheredoyougetthefoodfrom,foryourmen?

           ...Ithoughtso.Well,BartonandJonesofDenverwentbankruptyesterday.Betterfindanothersupplieratonce,ifyoudon’twanttohaveafamineonyourhands."ShehadbeenbuildingthelinefromherdeskinNewYork.Ithadseemedhard.Butnowshewaslookingatthetrack.Itwasgrowing.Itwouldbedoneontime.

           Sheheardsharp,hurriedfootsteps,andturned.Amanwascomingupthetrack.Hewastallandyoung,hisheadofblackhairwashatlessinthecoldwind,heworeaworkman’sleatherjacket,buthedidnotlooklikeaworkman,therewastooimperiousanassuranceinthewayhewalked.Shecouldnotrecognizethefaceuntilhecamecloser.ItwasEllisWyatt.Shehadnotseenhimsincethatoneinterviewinheroffice.

           Heapproached,stopped,lookedatherandsmiled.