Атлант расправил плечи
The Exploiters and the Exploited
Hereyesmovedfromthestainlesssteelcylinderofthecoffeeboilertothecast-irongriddle,totheglassshelves,totheenameledsink,tothechromiumbladesofamixer.Theownerwasmakingtoast.Shefoundpleasureinwatchingtheingenuityofanopenbeltthatmovedslowly,carryingslicesofbreadpastglowingelectriccoils.Thenshesawthenamestampedonthetoaster:Marsh,Colorado.
Herheadfelldownonherarmonthecounter.
"It’snouse,lady,"saidtheoldbumbesideher.
Shehadtoraiseherhead.Shehadtosmileinamusement,athimandatherself.
"Itisn’t?"sheasked.
"No.Forgetit.You’reonlyfoolingyourself."
"Aboutwhat?"
"Aboutanythingbeingworthadamn.It’sdust,lady,allofit,dustandblood.Don’tbelievethedreamstheypumpyoufullof,andyouwon’tgethurt."
"Whatdreams?"
"Thestoriestheytellyouwhenyou’reyoung—aboutthehumanspirit.Thereisn’tanyhumanspirit.Manisjustalow-gradeanimal,withoutintellect,withoutsoul,withoutvirtuesormoralvalues.Ananimalwithonlytwocapacities:toeatandtoreproduce."
Hisgauntface,withstaringeyesandshrunkenfeaturesthathadbeendelicate,stillretainedatraceofdistinction.Helookedlikethehulkofanevangelistoraprofessorofestheticswhohadspentyearsincontemplationinobscuremuseums.
