Атлант расправил плечи

           "I’dbetterringtohavethem—"

           "No,Mother,notnow,itdoesn’tmatter."

           "That’sthetroubleI’vealwayshadwithyou."Shewasnotlookingathim,butrecitingwordsintospace."It’snousetryingtodothingsforyou,youdon’tappreciateit.Icouldnevermakeyoueatproperly."

           "Henry,youworktoohard,"saidPhilip."It’snotgoodforyou."

           Reardenlaughed."Ilikeit."

           "That’swhatyoutellyourself.It’saformofneurosis,youknow.Whenamandrownshimselfinwork,it’sbecausehe’stryingtoescapefromsomething.Yououghttohaveahobby."

           "Oh,Phil,forChrist’ssake!"hesaid,andregrettedtheirritationinhisvoice.

           Philiphadalwaysbeeninprecarioushealth,thoughdoctorshadfoundnospecificdefectinhisloose,ganglingbody.Hewasthirty-eight,buthischronicwearinessmadepeoplethinkattimesthathewasolderthanhisbrother.

           "Yououghttolearntohavesomefun,"saidPhilip."Otherwise,you’llbecomedullandnarrow.Single-tracked,youknow.Yououghttogetoutofyourlittleprivateshellandtakealookattheworld.Youdon’twanttomisslife,thewayyou’redoing."

           Fightinganger,ReardentoldhimselfthatthiswasPhilip’sformofsolicitude.Hetoldhimselfthatitwouldbeunjusttofeelresentment:theywerealltryingtoshowtheirconcernforhim—andhewishedthesewerenotthethingstheyhadchosenforconcern.

           "Ihadaprettygoodtimetoday,Phil,"heanswered,smiling—andwonderedwhyPhilipdidnotaskhimwhatitwas.