Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
well,ifyouhaven’ttherighttobehappyandproud,whohas?"
"That’swhatIwanttoknow—whohas?"Heturnedtoherabruptly,thewordsexplodingasifasafetyfusehadblown."Hedidn’tinventironoreandblastfurnaces,didhe?"
"Who?"
"Rearden.Hedidn’tinventsmeltingandchemistryandaircompression.Hecouldn’thaveinventedhisMetalbutforthousandsandthousandsofotherpeople.HisMetal!Whydoeshethinkit’shis?Whydoeshethinkit’shisinvention?Everybodyusestheworkofeverybodyelse.
Nobodyeverinventsanything."
Shesaid,puzzled,"Buttheironoreandallthoseotherthingswerethereallthetime.Whydidn’tanybodyelsemakethatMetal,butMr.Reardendid?"
"Hedidn’tdoitforanynoblepurpose,hediditjustforhisownprofit,he’sneverdoneanythingforanyotherreason."
"What’swrongwiththat,Mr.Taggart?"Thenshelaughedsoftly,asifatthesuddensolutionofariddle."That’snonsense,Mr.Taggart.Youdon’tmeanit.YouknowthatMr.Reardenhasearnedallhisprofits,andsohaveyou.You’resayingthosethingsjusttobemodest,wheneverybodyknowswhatagreatjobyoupeoplehavedone—youandMr.Reardenandyoursister,whomustbesuchawonderfulperson!"
"Yeah?That’swhatyouthink.
