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- Стр. 144/1581
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"
James
,
you
ought
to
discover
some
day
that
words
have
an
exact
meaning
.
"
Francisco
smiled
;
it
was
a
smile
of
radiant
mockery
.
Watching
them
,
Dagny
thought
suddenly
of
the
difference
between
Francisco
and
her
brother
Jim
.
Both
of
them
smiled
derisively
.
But
Francisco
seemed
to
laugh
at
things
because
he
saw
something
much
greater
.
Jim
laughed
as
if
he
wanted
to
let
nothing
remain
great
.
She
noticed
the
particular
quality
of
Francisco
’
s
smile
again
,
one
night
,
when
she
sat
with
him
and
Eddie
at
a
bonfire
they
had
built
in
the
woods
.
The
glow
of
the
fire
enclosed
them
within
a
fence
of
broken
,
moving
strips
that
held
pieces
of
tree
trunks
,
branches
and
distant
stars
.
She
felt
as
if
there
were
nothing
beyond
that
fence
,
nothing
but
black
emptiness
,
with
the
hint
of
some
breath
-
stopping
,
frightening
promise
.
.
.
like
the
future
.
But
the
future
,
she
thought
,
would
be
like
Francisco
’
s
smile
,
there
was
the
key
to
it
,
the
advance
warning
of
its
nature
-
in
his
face
in
the
firelight
under
the
pine
branches
—
and
suddenly
she
felt
an
unbearable
happiness
,
unbearable
because
it
was
too
full
and
she
had
no
way
to
express
it
.
She
glanced
at
Eddie
.
He
was
looking
at
Francisco
.
In
some
quiet
way
of
his
own
,
Eddie
felt
as
she
did
.
"
Why
do
you
like
Francisco
?
"
she
asked
him
weeks
later
,
when
Francisco
was
gone
.
Eddie
looked
astonished
;
it
had
never
occurred
to
him
that
the
feeling
could
be
questioned
.
He
said
,
"
He
makes
me
feel
safe
.
"
She
said
,
"
He
makes
me
expect
excitement
and
danger
.
"
Francisco
was
sixteen
,
next
summer
,
the
day
when
she
stood
alone
with
him
on
the
summit
of
a
cliff
by
the
river
,
their
shorts
and
shirts
torn
in
their
climb
to
the
top
.
They
stood
looking
down
the
Hudson
;
they
had
heard
that
on
clear
days
one
could
see
New
York
in
the
distance
.
But
they
saw
only
a
haze
made
of
three
different
kinds
of
light
merging
together
:
the
river
,
the
sky
and
the
sun
.
She
knelt
on
a
rock
,
leaning
forward
,
trying
to
catch
some
hint
of
the
city
,
the
wind
blowing
her
hair
across
her
eyes
.
She
glanced
back
over
her
shoulder
—
and
saw
that
Francisco
was
not
looking
at
the
distance
:
he
stood
looking
at
her
.
It
was
an
odd
glance
,
intent
and
unsmiling
.
She
remained
still
for
a
moment
,
her
hands
spread
flat
on
the
rock
,
her
arms
tensed
to
support
the
weight
of
her
body
;
inexplicably
,
his
glance
made
her
aware
of
her
pose
,
of
her
shoulder
showing
through
the
torn
shirt
,
of
her
long
,
scratched
,
sunburned
legs
slanting
from
the
rock
to
the
ground
.
She
stood
up
angrily
and
backed
away
from
him
.
And
while
throwing
her
head
up
,
resentment
in
her
eyes
to
meet
the
sternness
in
his
,
while
feeling
certain
that
his
was
a
glance
of
condemnation
and
hostility
,
she
heard
herself
asking
him
,
a
tone
of
smiling
defiance
in
her
voice
: