Атлант расправил плечи
The Sacred and the Profane
Shefeltatpeace,andshewishedshecouldholdhermindstilltoletherownemotionscatchupwithher,tolookateverymomentofthemonththathadrushedpasther.ShehadhadnotimetofeelthatshewasbackinherownofficeatTaggartTranscontinental;therehadbeensomuchtodothatsheforgotitwasareturnfromexile.ShehadnotnoticedwhatJimhadsaidonherreturnorwhetherhehadsaidanything.Therehadbeenonlyonepersonwhosereactionshehadwantedtoknow;shehadtelephonedtheWayne-FalklandHotel;butSenorFranciscod’Anconia,shewastold,hadgonebacktoBuenosAires.
Sherememberedthemomentwhenshesignedhernameatthebottomofalonglegalpage;itwasthemomentthatendedtheJohnGaltLine.NowitwastheRioNorteLineofTaggartTranscontinentalagain—exceptthatthemenofthetraincrewsrefusedtogiveupitsname.She,too,foundithardtogiveup;sheforcedherselfnottocallit"theJohnGalt,"andwonderedwhythatrequiredaneffort,andwhyshefeltafaintwrenchofsadness.
Oneevening,onasuddenimpulse,shehadturnedthecorneroftheTaggartBuilding,foralastlookattheofficeofJohnGalt,Inc.,inthealley;shedidnotknowwhatshewanted—justtoseeit,shethought.
Aplankbarrierhadbeenraisedalongthesidewalk:theoldbuildingwasbeingdemolished;ithadgivenup,atlast.
