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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 271/1581
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"
Damn
these
streets
!
"
said
James
Taggart
.
"
We
’
re
going
to
be
late
.
"
Dagny
glanced
ahead
,
past
the
back
of
the
chauffeur
.
Through
the
circle
made
by
a
windshield
wiper
on
the
sleet
-
streaked
glass
,
she
saw
black
,
worn
,
glistening
car
tops
strung
in
a
motionless
line
.
Far
ahead
,
the
smear
of
a
red
lantern
,
low
over
the
ground
,
marked
a
street
excavation
.
"
There
’
s
something
wrong
on
every
other
street
,
"
said
Taggart
irritably
.
"
Why
doesn
’
t
somebody
fix
them
?
"
She
leaned
back
against
the
seat
,
tightening
the
collar
of
her
wrap
.
She
felt
exhausted
at
the
end
of
a
day
she
had
started
at
her
desk
,
in
her
office
,
at
seven
A
.
M
.
;
a
day
she
had
broken
off
,
uncompleted
,
to
rush
home
and
dress
,
because
she
had
promised
Jim
to
speak
at
the
dinner
of
the
New
York
Business
Council
"
They
want
us
to
give
them
a
talk
about
Rearden
Metal
,
"
he
had
said
.
"
You
can
do
it
so
much
better
than
I
.
It
’
s
very
important
that
we
present
a
good
case
.
There
’
s
such
a
controversy
about
Rearden
Metal
.
"
Sitting
beside
him
in
his
car
,
she
regretted
that
she
had
agreed
.
She
looked
at
the
streets
of
New
York
and
thought
of
the
race
between
metal
and
time
,
between
the
rails
of
the
Rio
Norte
Line
and
the
passing
days
.
She
felt
as
if
her
nerves
were
being
pulled
tight
by
the
stillness
of
the
car
,
by
the
guilt
of
wasting
an
evening
when
she
could
not
afford
to
waste
an
hour
.
"
With
all
those
attacks
on
Rearden
that
one
hears
everywhere
,
"
said
Taggart
,
"
he
might
need
a
few
friends
.
"
She
glanced
at
him
incredulously
.
"
You
mean
you
want
to
stand
by
him
?
"
He
did
not
answer
at
once
;
he
asked
,
his
voice
bleak
,
"
That
report
of
the
special
committee
of
the
National
Council
of
Metal
Industries
—
what
do
you
think
of
it
?
"
