Атлант расправил плечи

           "

           Sheinclinedherhead."Igiveyoumyword."Hereleasedherwrist.

           Sheadded,notraisingherhead,"TheonlythingI’llsayisthatiftheysentenceyoutojailtomorrow,I’llquit—withoutwaitingforanydestroyertopromptme."

           "Youwon’t.AndIdon’tthinkthey’llsentencemetojail.Ithinkthey’llletmeoffverylightly.Ihaveahypothesisaboutit—I’llexplainittoyouafterwards,whenI’veputittothetest."

           "Whathypothesis?"

           "WhoisJohnGalt?"Hesmiled,andstoodup."That’sall.Wewon’ttalkanyfurtheraboutmytrial,tonight.Youdon’thappentohaveanythingtodrinkinyouroffice,haveyou?"

           "No.ButIthinkmytrafficmanagerhassomesortofabarononeshelfofhisfilingcloset."

           "Doyouthinkyoucouldstealadrinkforme,ifhedoesn’thaveitlocked?"

           "I’lltry."

           HestoodlookingattheportraitofNatTaggartonthewallofheroffice—theportraitofayoungmanwithaliftedhead—untilshereturned,bringingabottleofbrandyandtwoglasses.Hefilledtheglassesinsilence.

           "Youknow,Dagny,Thanksgivingwasaholidayestablishedbyproductivepeopletocelebratethesuccessoftheirwork."

           Themovementofhisarm,asheraisedhisglass,wentfromtheportrait—toher—tohimself—tothebuildingsofthecitybeyondthewindow.