Атлант расправил плечи
The Aristocracy of pull
"Ohmy,that’stoobad!Well,listen,I’lltellyou,ifyougivemeyourwordofhonorthatyouwon’trepeatittoanyone.Youdon’twanttostartapanic."
"Wordofhonor..."gaspedtheman.
"Whatyou’dbetterdoisruntoyourstockbrokerandsellasfastasyoucan—becausethingshaven’tbeengoingtoowellford’AnconiaCopper,I’mtryingtoraisesomemoney,butifIdon’tsucceed,you’llbeluckyifyou’llhavetencentsonyourdollartomorrowmorning—ohmy!Iforgotthatyoucan’treachyourstockbrokerbeforetomorrowmorning—well,it’stoobad,but—"
Themanwasrunningacrosstheroom,pushingpeopleoutofhisway,likeatorpedoshotintothecrowd.
"Watch,"saidFranciscoausterely,turningtoRearden.
Themanwaslostinthecrowd,theycouldnotseehim,theycouldnottelltowhomhewassellinghissecretorwhetherhehadenoughofhiscunninglefttomakeitatradewiththosewhoheldfavors—buttheysawthewakeofhispassagespreadingthroughtheroom,thesuddencutssplittingthecrowd,likethefirstfewcracks,thenliketheacceleratingbranchingthatrunsthroughawallabouttocrumble,thestreaksofemptinessslashed,notbyahumantouch,butbytheimpersonalbreathofterror.
