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- Стр. 1327/1581
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She
was
hurrying
down
the
remnants
of
abandoned
rails
,
down
the
long
,
dark
corridors
twisting
through
granite
.
She
lost
the
sound
of
the
director
’
s
voice
behind
her
.
Then
she
felt
the
beat
of
her
arteries
and
heard
,
in
answering
rhythm
,
the
beat
of
the
city
above
her
head
,
but
she
felt
as
if
she
heard
the
motion
of
her
blood
as
a
sound
filling
the
silence
,
and
the
motion
of
the
city
as
the
beat
inside
her
body
—
and
,
far
behind
her
,
she
heard
the
sound
of
steps
.
She
did
not
glance
back
.
She
went
faster
.
She
went
past
the
locked
iron
door
where
the
remnant
of
his
motor
was
still
hidden
,
she
did
not
stop
,
but
a
faint
shudder
was
her
answer
to
the
sudden
glimpse
of
the
unity
and
logic
in
the
events
of
the
last
two
years
.
A
string
of
blue
lights
went
on
into
the
darkness
,
over
patches
of
glistening
granite
,
over
broken
sandbags
spilling
drifts
on
the
rails
,
over
rusty
piles
of
scrap
metal
.
When
she
heard
the
steps
coming
closer
,
she
stopped
and
turned
to
look
back
.
She
saw
a
sweep
of
blue
light
flash
briefly
on
the
shining
strands
of
Galt
’
s
hair
,
she
caught
the
pale
outline
of
his
face
and
the
dark
hollows
of
his
eyes
.
The
face
disappeared
,
but
the
sound
of
his
steps
served
as
the
link
to
the
next
blue
light
that
swept
across
the
line
of
his
eyes
,
the
eyes
that
remained
held
level
,
directed
ahead
—
and
she
felt
certain
that
she
had
stayed
in
his
sight
from
the
moment
he
had
seen
her
at
the
tower
.
She
heard
the
beat
of
the
city
above
them
—
these
tunnels
,
she
had
once
thought
,
were
the
roots
of
the
city
and
of
all
the
motion
reaching
to
the
sky
—
but
they
,
she
thought
,
John
Galt
and
she
,
were
the
living
power
within
these
roots
,
they
were
the
start
and
aim
and
meaning
—
he
,
too
,
she
thought
,
heard
the
beat
of
the
city
as
the
beat
of
his
body
.
She
threw
her
cape
back
,
she
stood
defiantly
straight
,
as
he
had
seen
her
stand
on
the
steps
of
the
tower
—
as
he
had
seen
her
for
the
first
time
,
ten
years
ago
,
here
,
under
the
ground
—
she
was
hearing
the
words
of
his
confession
,
not
as
words
,
but
by
means
of
that
beating
which
made
it
so
difficult
to
breathe
:
You
looked
like
a
symbol
of
luxury
and
you
belonged
in
the
place
that
was
its
source
.
.
.
you
seemed
to
bring
the
enjoyment
of
life
back
to
its
rightful
owners
.
.
.
you
had
a
look
of
energy
and
of
its
reward
,
together
.
.
.
and
I
was
the
first
man
who
had
ever
stated
in
what
manner
these
two
were
inseparable
.
.
.
The
next
span
of
moments
was
like
flashes
of
light
in
stretches
of
blinded
unconsciousness
—
the
moment
when
she
saw
his
face
,
as
he
stopped
beside
her
,
when
she
saw
the
unastonished
calm
,
the
leashed
intensity
,
the
laughter
of
understanding
in
the
dark
green
eyes
—
the
moment
when
she
knew
what
he
saw
in
her
face
,
by
the
tight
,
drawn
harshness
of
his
lips
—
the
moment
when
she
felt
his
mouth
on
hers
,
when
she
felt
the
shape
of
his
mouth
both
as
an
absolute
shape
and
as
a
liquid
filling
her
body
—
then
the
motion
of
his
lips
down
the
line
of
her
throat
,
a
drinking
motion
that
left
a
trail
of
bruises
—
then
the
sparkle
of
her
diamond
clip
against
the
trembling
copper
of
his
hair
.
Then
she
was
conscious
of
nothing
but
the
sensations
of
her
body
,
because
her
body
acquired
the
sudden
power
to
let
her
know
her
most
complex
values
by
direct
perception
.
Just
as
her
eyes
had
the
power
to
translate
wave
lengths
of
energy
into
sight
,
just
as
her
ears
had
the
power
to
translate
vibrations
into
sound
,
so
her
body
now
had
the
power
to
translate
the
energy
that
had
moved
all
the
choices
of
her
life
,
into
immediate
sensory
perception
.
It
was
not
the
pressure
of
a
hand
that
made
her
tremble
,
but
the
instantaneous
sum
of
its
meaning
,
the
knowledge
that
it
was
his
hand
,
that
it
moved
as
if
her
flesh
were
his
possession
,
that
its
movement
was
his
signature
of
acceptance
under
the
whole
of
that
achievement
which
was
herself
—
it
was
only
a
sensation
of
physical
pleasure
,
but
it
contained
her
worship
of
him
,
of
everything
that
was
his
person
and
his
life
—
from
the
night
of
the
mass
meeting
in
a
factory
in
Wisconsin
,
to
the
Atlantis
of
a
valley
hidden
in
the
Rocky
Mountains
,
to
the
triumphant
mockery
of
the
green
eyes
of
the
superlative
intelligence
above
a
worker
’
s
figure
at
the
foot
of
the
tower
—
it
contained
her
pride
in
herself
and
that
it
should
be
she
whom
he
had
chosen
as
his
mirror
,
that
it
should
be
her
body
which
was
now
giving
him
the
sum
of
his
existence
,
as
his
body
was
giving
her
the
sum
of
hers
.
These
were
the
things
it
contained
—
but
what
she
knew
was
only
the
sensation
of
the
movement
of
his
hand
on
her
breasts
.
He
tore
off
her
cape
and
she
felt
the
slenderness
of
her
own
body
by
means
of
the
circle
of
his
arms
,
as
if
his
person
were
only
a
tool
for
her
triumphant
awareness
of
herself
,
but
that
self
were
only
a
tool
for
her
awareness
of
him
.
