Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
Youdon’thavetofearthatyou’renowdependentuponme.It’sIwhowilldependonanywhimofyours.You’llhavemeanytimeyouwish,anywhere,onanyterms.Didyoucallittheobscenityofmytalent?It’ssuchthatitgivesyouasaferholdonmethanonanyotherpropertyyouown.Youmaydisposeofmeasyouplease—I’mnotafraidtoadmitit—Ihavenothingtoprotectfromyouandnothingtoreserve.Youthinkthatthisisathreattoyourachievement,butitisnottomine.Iwillsitatmydesk,andwork,andwhenthethingsaroundmegethardtobear,IwillthinkthatformyrewardIwillbeinyourbedthatnight.Didyoucallitdepravity?Iammuchmoredepravedthanyouare:youholditasyourguilt,andI—asmypride.I’mmoreproudofitthanofanythingI’vedone,moreproudthanofbuildingtheLine.IfI’maskedtonamemyproudestattainment,Iwillsay:IhavesleptwithHankRearden.Ihadearnedit."
Whenhethrewherdownonthebed,theirbodiesmetlikethetwosoundsthatbrokeagainsteachotherintheairoftheroom:thesoundofhistorturedmoanandofherlaughter.
Therainwasinvisibleinthedarknessofthestreets,butithunglikethesparklingfringeofalampshadeunderthecornerlight.Fumblinginhispockets,JamesTaggartdiscoveredthathehadlosthishandkerchief.
Hesworehalf-aloud,withresentfulmalice,asiftheloss,therainandhisheadcoldweresomeone’spersonalconspiracyagainsthim.
