Атлант расправил плечи

           Reardenasked,hisvoicehard,"Whatareyoudoinghere?"

           "Ithoughtthatyouwouldwanttoseemetonight,Mr.Rearden."

           "Why?"

           "Forthesamereasonthathaskeptyousolateinyouroffice.Youwerenotworking."

           "Howlonghaveyoubeensittinghere?"

           "Anhourortwo."

           "Whydidn’tyouknockatmydoor?"

           "Wouldyouhaveallowedmetocomein?"

           "You’relateinaskingthatquestion."

           "ShallIleave,Mr.Rearden?"

           Reardenpointedtothedoorofhisoffice."Comein."

           Turningthelightsonintheoffice,movingwithunhurriedcontrol,Reardenthoughtthathemustnotallowhimselftofeelanything,butfeltthecoloroflifereturningtohiminthetenselyquieteagernessofanemotionwhichhewouldnotidentify.Whathetoldhimselfconsciouslywas:Becareful.

           Hesatdownontheedgeofhisdesk,crossedhisarms,lookedatFrancisco,whoremainedstandingrespectfullybeforehim,andaskedwiththecoldhintofasmile,"Whydidyoucomehere?"

           "Youdon’twantmetoanswer,Mr.Rearden.Youwouldn’tadmittomeortoyourselfhowdesperatelylonelyyouaretonight.Ifyoudon’tquestionme,youwon’tfeelobligedtodenyit.Justacceptwhatyoudoknow,anyway:thatIknowit.