Атлант расправил плечи
The Sanction of the Victim
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"Didn’tyouknowwhatavaluablepieceofinformationitwasandwhatastupendoustradeyoucouldhavepulledwiththosefriendsofyoursinWashingtonwhomyouofferedtomeonce—remember?—thefriendswhoalways‘occasionexpenses’?"Theboyhadnotanswered.
"Itcouldhavemadeyourcareerattheverytoplevel.Don’ttellmethatyoudidn’tknowit."
"Iknewit."
"Thenwhydidn’tyoumakeuseofit?"
"Ididn’twantto."
"Whynot?"
"Don’tknow."
Theboyhadstood,glumlyavoidingRearden’seyes,asiftryingtoavoidsomethingincomprehensiblewithinhimself.Reardenhadlaughed.
"Listen,Non-Absolute,you’replayingwithfire.Bettergoandmurdersomebodyfast,beforeyouletitgetyou—thatreasonthatstoppedyoufromturninginformer—orelseitwillblastyourcareertohell."
Theboyhadnotanswered.
Thismorning,Reardenhadgonetohisofficeasusual,eventhoughtherestoftheofficebuildingwasclosed.Atlunchtime,hehadstoppedattherollingmillsandhadbeenastonishedtofindtheWetNursestandingthere,aloneinacorner,ignoredbyeverybody,watchingtheworkwithanairofchildishenjoyment.
"Whatareyoudoingheretoday?"Reardenhadasked.
