Атлант расправил плечи

           Shehadstoodtheresilently,watching,withoutinterestorpurpose,likeachemicalcompoundonaphotographicplate,absorbingvisualshapesbecausetheyweretheretobeabsorbed,butunableevertoformanyestimateoftheobjectsofhervision.

           Dagnyhadbeenstudyingherforsomeminutes.Theswollenshapelessnessofthewoman’sbodydidnotlookliketheproductofageandneglect:itlookedasifshewaspregnant.Thisseemedimpossible,butglancingcloserDagnysawthatherdust-coloredhairwasnotgrayandthattherewerefewwrinklesonherface;itwasonlythevacanteyes,thestoopedshoulders,theshufflingmovementsthatgaveherthestampofsenility.

           Dagnyleanedoutandasked,"Howoldareyou?"

           Thewomanlookedather,notinresentment,butmerelyasonelooksatapointlessquestion."Thirty-seven,"sheanswered.

           Theyhaddrivenfiveformerblocksaway,whenDagnyspoke.

           "Hank,"shesaidinterror,"thatwomanisonlytwoyearsolderthanI!"

           "Yes."

           "God,howdidtheyevercometosuchastate?"

           Heshrugged."WhoisJohnGalt?"

           Thelastthingtheysaw,astheyleftthetown,wasabillboard.Adesignwasstillvisibleonitspeelingstrips,imprintedinthedeadgraythathadoncebeencolor.Itadvertisedawashingmachine.