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"
Hank
Rearden
.
"
"
Yes
.
.
.
"
she
whispered
,
"
Oh
yes
!
"
She
wondered
what
had
made
her
say
it
with
such
immediate
certainty
.
She
felt
,
simultaneously
,
that
Hank
Rearden
’
s
presence
in
this
valley
was
impossible
—
and
that
this
was
his
place
,
peculiarly
his
,
this
was
the
place
of
his
youth
,
of
his
start
,
and
,
together
,
the
place
he
had
been
seeking
all
his
life
,
the
land
he
had
struggled
to
reach
,
the
goal
of
his
tortured
battle
.
.
.
It
seemed
to
her
that
the
spirals
of
flame
tinged
fog
were
drawing
time
into
an
odd
circle
—
and
while
a
dim
thought
went
floating
through
her
mind
like
the
streamer
of
an
unfollowed
sentence
:
To
hold
an
unchanging
youth
is
to
reach
,
at
the
end
,
the
vision
with
which
one
started
—
she
heard
the
voice
of
a
tramp
in
a
diner
,
saying
,
"
John
Galt
found
the
fountain
of
youth
which
he
wanted
to
bring
down
to
men
.
Only
he
never
came
back
.
.
.
because
he
found
that
it
couldn
’
t
be
brought
down
.
"
A
sheaf
of
sparks
went
up
in
the
depth
of
the
fog
—
and
she
saw
the
broad
back
of
a
foreman
whose
arm
made
the
sweeping
gesture
of
a
signal
,
directing
some
invisible
task
.
He
jerked
his
head
to
snap
an
order
—
she
caught
a
glimpse
of
his
profile
—
and
she
caught
her
breath
.
Stockton
saw
it
,
chuckled
and
called
into
the
fog
:
"
Hey
,
Ken
!
Come
here
!
Here
’
s
an
old
friend
of
yours
!
"
She
looked
at
Ken
Danagger
as
he
approached
them
.
The
great
industrialist
,
whom
she
had
tried
so
desperately
to
hold
to
his
desk
,
was
now
dressed
in
smudged
overalls
.
"
Hello
,
Miss
Taggart
.
I
told
you
we
’
d
soon
meet
again
.
"
Her
head
dropped
,
as
if
in
assent
and
in
greeting
,
but
her
hand
bore
down
heavily
upon
her
cane
,
for
a
moment
,
while
she
stood
reliving
their
last
encounter
:
the
tortured
hour
of
waiting
,
then
the
gently
distant
face
at
the
desk
and
the
tinkling
of
a
glass
-
paneled
door
closing
upon
a
stranger
.
It
was
so
brief
a
moment
that
two
of
the
men
before
her
could
take
it
only
as
a
greeting
—
but
it
was
at
Galt
that
she
looked
when
she
raised
her
head
,
and
she
saw
him
looking
at
her
as
if
he
knew
what
she
felt
—
she
saw
him
seeing
in
her
face
the
realization
that
it
was
he
who
had
walked
out
of
Danagger
’
s
office
,
that
day
.
His
face
gave
her
nothing
in
answer
:
it
had
that
look
of
respectful
severity
with
which
a
man
stands
before
the
fact
that
the
truth
is
the
truth
.
