-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Айн Рэнд
-
- Атлант расправил плечи
-
- Стр. 1460/1581
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
men
backed
out
in
silence
and
went
on
backing
toward
the
exit
door
,
then
stopped
uncertainly
,
one
after
another
,
at
random
points
of
the
garret
,
as
if
abandoned
by
a
receding
tide
.
"
Well
,
"
said
Galt
,
reaching
for
his
overcoat
and
turning
to
the
leader
,
"
let
’
s
go
.
"
Three
floors
of
the
Wayne
-
Falkland
Hotel
had
been
evacuated
and
transformed
into
an
armed
camp
.
Guards
with
machine
guns
stood
at
every
turn
of
the
long
,
velvet
-
carpeted
corridors
.
Sentinels
with
bayonets
stood
on
the
landings
of
the
fire
-
stairways
.
The
elevator
doors
of
the
fifty
-
ninth
,
sixtieth
and
sixty
-
first
floors
were
padlocked
;
a
single
door
and
one
elevator
were
left
as
sole
means
of
access
,
guarded
by
soldiers
in
full
battle
regalia
.
Peculiar
-
looking
men
loitered
in
the
lobbies
,
restaurants
and
shops
of
the
ground
floor
:
their
clothes
were
too
new
and
too
expensive
,
in
unsuccessful
imitation
of
the
hotel
’
s
usual
patrons
,
a
camouflage
impaired
by
the
fact
that
the
clothes
were
badly
fitted
to
their
wearers
’
husky
figures
and
were
further
distorted
by
bulges
in
places
where
the
garments
of
businessmen
have
no
cause
to
bulge
,
but
the
garments
of
gunmen
have
.
Groups
of
guards
with
Tommy
guns
were
posted
at
every
entrance
and
exit
of
the
hotel
,
as
well
as
at
strategic
windows
of
the
adjoining
streets
.
In
the
center
of
this
camp
,
on
the
sixtieth
floor
,
in
what
was
known
as
the
royal
suite
of
the
Wayne
-
Falkland
Hotel
,
amidst
satin
drapes
,
crystal
candelabra
and
sculptured
garlands
of
Sowers
,
John
Galt
,
dressed
in
slacks
and
shirt
,
sat
in
a
brocaded
armchair
,
one
leg
stretched
out
on
a
velvet
hassock
,
his
hands
crossed
behind
his
head
,
looking
at
the
ceiling
.
This
was
the
posture
in
which
Mr
.
Thompson
found
him
,
when
the
four
guards
,
who
had
stood
outside
the
door
of
the
royal
suite
since
five
A
.
M
.
,
opened
it
at
eleven
A
.
M
.
to
admit
Mr
.
Thompson
,
and
locked
it
again
.
Mr
.
Thompson
experienced
a
brief
flash
of
uneasiness
when
the
click
of
the
lock
cut
off
his
escape
and
left
him
alone
with
the
prisoner
.
But
he
remembered
the
newspaper
headlines
and
the
radio
voices
,
which
had
been
announcing
to
the
country
since
dawn
:
"
John
Galt
is
found
!
—
John
Galt
is
in
New
York
!
—
John
Galt
has
joined
the
people
’
s
cause
!
—
John
Galt
is
in
conference
with
the
country
’
s
leaders
,
working
for
a
speedy
solution
of
all
our
problems
!
"
—
and
he
made
himself
feel
that
he
believed
it
.
"
Well
,
well
,
well
!
"
he
said
brightly
,
marching
up
to
the
armchair
.
"
So
you
’
re
the
young
fellow
who
’
s
started
all
the
trouble
—
Oh
,
"
he
said
suddenly
,
as
he
got
a
closer
look
at
the
dark
green
eyes
watching
him
.
"
Well
,
I
.
.
.
I
’
m
tickled
pink
to
meet
you
,
Mr
.
Galt
,
just
tickled
pink
.
"
He
added
,
"
I
’
m
Mr
.
Thompson
,
you
know
.
"
