-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Айн Рэнд
-
- Атлант расправил плечи
-
- Стр. 1271/1581
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
His
eyes
shot
to
his
wrist
watch
.
"
No
,
no
,
that
’
s
not
all
!
It
’
s
most
urgent
that
we
discuss
the
situation
and
arrive
at
some
decision
,
which
—
"
She
listened
blankly
to
the
next
stream
of
generalities
,
wondering
about
his
motive
.
He
was
marking
time
,
yet
he
wasn
’
t
,
not
fully
;
she
felt
certain
that
he
was
holding
her
here
for
some
specific
purpose
and
,
simultaneously
,
that
he
was
holding
her
for
the
mere
sake
of
her
presence
.
It
was
some
new
trait
in
him
,
which
she
had
begun
to
notice
ever
since
Cherryl
’
s
death
.
He
had
come
running
to
her
,
rushing
,
unannounced
,
into
her
apartment
on
the
evening
of
the
day
when
Cherryl
’
s
body
had
been
found
and
the
story
of
her
suicide
had
filled
the
newspapers
,
given
by
some
social
worker
who
had
witnessed
it
;
"
an
inexplicable
suicide
,
"
the
newspapers
had
called
it
,
unable
to
discover
any
motive
.
"
It
wasn
’
t
my
fault
!
"
he
had
screamed
to
her
,
as
if
she
were
the
only
judge
whom
he
had
to
placate
.
"
I
’
m
not
to
blame
for
it
!
I
’
m
not
to
blame
!
"
He
had
been
shaking
with
terror
—
yet
she
had
caught
a
few
glances
thrown
shrewdly
at
her
face
,
which
had
seemed
,
inconceivably
,
to
convey
a
touch
of
triumph
.
"
Get
out
of
here
,
Jim
,
"
was
all
she
had
said
to
him
.
He
had
never
spoken
to
her
again
about
Cherryl
,
but
he
had
started
coming
to
her
office
more
often
than
usual
,
he
had
stopped
her
in
the
halls
for
snatches
of
pointless
discussions
—
and
such
moments
had
grown
into
a
sum
that
gave
her
an
incomprehensible
sensation
:
as
if
,
while
clinging
to
her
for
support
and
protection
against
some
nameless
terror
,
his
arms
were
sliding
to
embrace
her
and
to
plunge
a
knife
into
her
back
.
"
I
am
eager
to
know
your
views
,
"
he
was
saying
insistently
,
as
she
looked
away
.
"
It
is
most
urgent
that
we
discuss
the
situation
and
.
.
.
and
you
haven
’
t
said
anything
.
"
She
did
not
turn
.
"
It
’
s
not
as
if
there
were
no
money
to
be
had
out
of
the
railroad
business
,
but
—
"
She
glanced
at
him
sharply
;
his
eyes
scurried
away
.
"
What
I
mean
is
,
some
constructive
policy
has
to
be
devised
,
"
he
droned
on
hastily
.
"
Something
has
to
be
done
.
.
.
by
somebody
.
In
times
of
emergency
—
"
She
knew
what
thought
he
had
scurried
to
avoid
,
what
hint
he
had
given
her
,
yet
did
not
want
her
to
acknowledge
or
discuss
.
She
knew
that
no
train
schedules
could
be
maintained
any
longer
,
no
promises
kept
,
no
contracts
observed
,
that
regular
trains
were
cancelled
at
a
moment
’
s
notice
and
transformed
into
emergency
specials
sent
by
unexplained
orders
to
unexpected
destinations
—
and
that
the
orders
came
from
Cuffy
Meigs
,
sole
judge
of
emergencies
and
of
the
public
welfare
.
She
knew
that
factories
were
closing
,
some
with
their
machinery
stilled
for
lack
of
supplies
that
had
not
been
received
,
others
with
their
warehouses
full
of
goods
that
could
not
be
delivered
.
She
knew
that
the
old
industries
—
the
giants
who
had
built
their
power
by
a
purposeful
course
projected
over
a
span
of
time
—
were
left
to
exist
at
the
whim
of
the
moment
,
a
moment
they
could
not
foresee
or
control
.
She
knew
that
the
best
among
them
,
those
of
the
longest
range
and
most
complex
function
,
had
long
since
gone
—
and
those
still
struggling
to
produce
,
struggling
savagely
to
preserve
the
code
of
an
age
when
production
had
been
possible
,
were
now
inserting
into
their
contracts
a
line
shameful
to
a
descendant
of
Nat
Taggart
:
"
Transportation
permitting
.
"