Атлант расправил плечи
The John Galt line
HedreadedfacingoneoftheBill’svictims:hefeltalmostasifhe,EddieWillers,sharedtheresponsibilityforitinsometerriblewaywhichhecouldnotdefine.
WhenhesawRearden,thefeelingvanished.Therewasnohintsuggestingavictim,inRearden’sbearing.Beyondthewindowsofthehotelroom,thespringsunlightofearlymorningsparkledonthewindowsofthecity,theskywasaverypalebluethatseemedyoung,theofficeswerestillclosed,andthecitydidnotlookasifitheldmalice,butasifitwerejoyously,hopefullyreadytoswingintoaction—inthesamemannerasRearden.Helookedrefreshedbyanuntroubledsleep,heworeadressinggown,heseemedimpatientofthenecessitytodress,unwillingtodelaytheexcitinggameofhisbusinessduties.
"Goodmorning,Eddie.SorryifIgotyououtsoearly.It’stheonlytimeIhad.HavetogobacktoPhiladelphiarightafterbreakfast.Wecantalkwhilewe’reeating."
Thedressinggownheworewasofdarkblueflannel,withthewhiteinitials"HR"onthebreastpocket.Helookedyoung,relaxed,athomeinthisroomandintheworld.
Eddiewatchedawaiterwheelthebreakfasttableintotheroomwithaswiftefficiencythatmadehimfeelbraced.Hefoundhimselfenjoyingthestifffreshnessofthewhitetableclothandthesunlightsparklingonthesilver,onthetwobowlsofcrushediceholdingglassesoforangejuice;hehadnotknownthatsuchthingscouldgivehimaninvigoratingpleasure.
