Атлант расправил плечи
The John Galt line
Youknow,it’sstrange,butIthinktheyknowit,too,Jimandhiscrowdandalloftheminthebuilding.There’ssomethingguiltyandsneakyaboutthewholeplace.Guiltyandsneakyanddead.TaggartTranscontinentalisnowlikeamanwho’slosthissoul...who’sbetrayedhissoul...No,shedoesn’tcare.LasttimeshewasinNewYork,shecameinunexpectedly—Iwasinmyoffice,inheroffice—andsuddenlythedooropenedandthereshewas.Shecamein,saying,‘Mr.Willers,I’mlookingforajobasastationoperator,wouldyougivemeachance?’Iwantedtodamnthemall,butIhadtolaugh,Iwassogladtoseeherandshewaslaughingsohappily.Shehadcomestraightfromtheairport—sheworeslacksandaflyingjacket—shelookedwonderful—she’dgotwindburned,itlookedlikeasuntan,justasifshe’dreturnedfromavacation.ShemademeremainwhereIwas,inherchair,andshesatonthedeskandtalkedaboutthenewbridgeoftheJohnGaltLine...No.No,Ineveraskedherwhyshechosethatname...Idon’tknowwhatitmeanstoher.Asortofchallenge,Iguess...Idon’tknowtowhom...Oh,itdoesn’tmatter,itdoesn’tmeanathing,thereisn’tanyJohnGalt,butIwishshehadn’tusedit.Idon’tlikeit,doyou?...Youdo?Youdon’tsoundveryhappysayingit."
ThewindowsoftheofficesoftheJohnGaltLinefacedadarkalley.
Lookingupfromherdesk,Dagnycouldnotseethesky,onlythewallofabuildingrisingpastherrangeofvision.
