Атлант расправил плечи

The Chain

           Hewishedoneofthemwouldaskhim.Hewasfindingithardtoconcentrate.Thesightoftherunningmetalwasstillburnedintohismind,fillinghisconsciousness,leavingnoroomforanythingelse.

           "Youmighthaveapologized,onlyIoughttoknowbetterthantoexpectit."Itwashismother’svoice;heturned:shewaslookingathimwiththatinjuredlookwhichproclaimsthelong-bearingpatienceofthedefenseless.

           "Mrs.Beechamwasherefordinner,"shesaidreproachfully.

           "What?"

           "Mrs.Beecham.MyfriendMrs.Beecham."

           "Yes?"

           "Itoldyouabouther,Itoldyoumanytimes,butyouneverrememberanythingIsay.Mrs.Beechamwassoanxioustomeetyou,butshehadtoleaveafterdinner,shecouldn’twait,Mrs.Beechamisaverybusyperson.Shewantedsomuchtotellyouaboutthewonderfulworkwe’redoinginourparishschool,andabouttheclassesinmetalcraftsmanship,andaboutthebeautifulwrought-irondoorknobsthatthelittleslumchildrenaremakingallbythemselves."

           Ittookthewholeofhissenseofconsiderationtoforcehimselftoanswerevenly,"I’msorryifIdisappointedyou,Mother."

           "You’renotsorry.Youcould’vebeenhereifyou’dmadetheeffort.Butwhendidyouevermakeaneffortforanybodybutyourself?You’renotinterestedinanyofusorinanythingwedo.Youthinkthatifyoupaythebills,that’senough,don’tyou?Money!That’sallyouknow.Andallyougiveusismoney.

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