Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
"
"Whendidyoucomehere?"
"Sixmonthsago."
"Andyou’reallalone?"
"Yes,"shesaidhappily.
"Whatwasityouwantedtodo?"
"Well,youknow—makesomethingofmyself,getsomewhere."
"Where?"
"Oh,Idon’tknow,but...butpeopledothingsintheworld.IsawpicturesofNewYorkandIthought"—shepointedatthegiantbuildingsbeyondthestreaksofrainonthecabwindow—"Ithought,somebodybuiltthosebuildings—hedidn’tjustsitandwhinethatthekitchenwasfilthyandtheroofleakingandtheplumbingcloggedandit’sagoddamnworldand...Mr.Taggart"—shejerkedherheadinashudderandlookedstraightathim—"wewerestinkingpoorandnotgivingadamnaboutit.That’swhatIcouldn’ttake—thattheydidn’treallygiveadamn.Notenoughtoliftafinger.Notenoughtoemptythegarbagepail.Andthewomannextdoorsayingitwasmydutytohelpthem,sayingitmadenodifferencewhatbecameofmeorofherorofanyofus,becausewhatcouldanybodydoanyway!"Beyondthebrightlookofhereyes,hesawsomethingwithinherthatwashurtandhard.
"Idon’twanttotalkaboutthem,"shesaid."Notwithyou.This—mymeetingyou,Imean—that’swhattheycouldn’thave.That’swhatI’mnotgoingtosharewiththem.It’smine,nottheirs."
"Howoldareyou?"heasked.
