-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Айн Рэнд
-
- Атлант расправил плечи
-
- Стр. 1311/1581
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
At
a
time
when
the
voices
of
railroad
officials
uttered
nothing
but
sounds
designed
to
avoid
communication
,
the
voices
of
nameless
men
were
her
last
link
to
the
system
,
the
last
sparks
of
reason
and
tortured
honesty
flashing
briefly
through
the
miles
of
Taggart
track
.
"
Miss
Taggart
,
it
is
not
my
place
to
call
you
,
but
nobody
else
will
,
"
said
the
voice
that
came
on
the
wire
,
this
time
;
the
voice
sounded
young
and
too
calm
.
"
In
another
day
or
two
,
a
disaster
’
s
going
to
happen
here
the
like
of
which
they
’
ve
never
seen
,
and
they
won
’
t
be
able
to
hide
it
any
longer
,
only
it
will
be
too
late
by
then
,
and
maybe
it
’
s
too
late
already
.
"
"
What
is
it
?
Who
are
you
?
"
"
One
of
your
employees
of
the
Minnesota
Division
,
Miss
Taggart
.
In
another
day
or
two
,
the
trains
will
stop
running
out
of
here
—
and
you
know
what
that
means
,
at
the
height
of
the
harvest
.
At
the
height
of
the
biggest
harvest
we
’
ve
ever
had
.
They
’
ll
stop
,
because
we
have
no
cars
.
The
harvest
freight
cars
have
not
been
sent
to
us
this
year
.
"
"
What
did
you
say
?
"
She
felt
as
if
minutes
went
by
between
the
words
of
the
unnatural
voice
that
did
not
sound
like
her
own
.
"
The
cars
have
not
been
sent
.
Fifteen
thousand
should
have
been
here
by
now
.
As
far
as
I
could
learn
,
about
eight
thousand
cars
is
all
we
got
.
I
’
ve
been
calling
Division
Headquarters
for
a
week
.
They
’
ve
been
telling
me
not
to
worry
.
Last
time
,
they
told
me
to
mind
my
own
damn
business
.
Every
shed
,
silo
,
elevator
,
warehouse
,
garage
and
dance
hall
along
the
track
is
filled
with
wheat
.
At
the
Sherman
elevators
,
there
’
s
a
line
of
farmers
’
trucks
and
wagons
two
miles
long
,
waiting
on
the
road
.
At
Lakewood
Station
,
the
square
is
packed
solid
and
has
been
for
three
nights
.
They
keep
telling
us
it
’
s
only
temporary
,
the
cars
are
coming
and
we
’
ll
catch
up
.
We
won
’
t
.
There
aren
’
t
any
cars
coming
.
I
’
ve
called
everyone
I
could
.
I
know
,
by
the
way
they
answer
.
They
know
,
and
not
one
of
them
wants
to
admit
it
.
They
’
re
scared
,
scared
to
move
or
speak
or
ask
or
answer
.
All
they
’
re
thinking
of
is
who
will
be
blamed
when
that
harvest
rots
here
around
the
stations
—
and
not
of
who
’
s
going
to
move
it
.
Maybe
nobody
can
,
now
.
Maybe
there
’
s
nothing
you
can
do
about
it
,
either
.
But
I
thought
you
’
re
the
only
person
left
who
’
d
want
to
know
and
that
somebody
had
to
tell
you
.
"
"
I
.
.
.
"
She
made
an
effort
to
breathe
.
"
I
see
.
.
.
Who
are
you
?
"
