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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 354/1581
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The
spring
rain
hung
motionless
in
the
air
beyond
the
window
,
like
a
thin
mist
.
She
sat
,
looking
across
at
the
open
cavern
of
the
Express
and
Baggage
Entrance
of
the
Taggart
Terminal
.
There
were
naked
lights
inside
,
among
the
steel
girders
of
the
ceiling
,
and
a
few
piles
of
luggage
on
the
worn
concrete
of
the
floor
.
The
place
looked
abandoned
and
dead
.
She
glanced
at
a
jagged
crack
on
the
wall
of
her
office
.
She
heard
no
sound
.
She
knew
she
was
alone
in
the
ruins
of
a
building
.
It
seemed
as
if
she
were
alone
in
the
city
.
She
felt
an
emotion
held
back
for
years
:
a
loneliness
much
beyond
this
moment
,
beyond
the
silence
of
the
room
and
the
wet
,
glistening
emptiness
of
the
street
;
the
loneliness
of
a
gray
wasteland
where
nothing
was
worth
reaching
;
the
loneliness
of
her
childhood
.
She
rose
and
walked
to
the
window
.
By
pressing
her
face
to
the
pane
,
she
could
see
the
whole
of
the
Taggart
Building
,
its
lines
converging
abruptly
to
its
distant
pinnacle
in
the
sky
.
She
looked
up
at
the
dark
window
of
the
room
that
had
been
her
office
.
She
felt
as
if
she
were
in
exile
,
never
to
return
,
as
if
she
were
separated
from
the
building
by
much
more
than
a
sheet
of
glass
,
a
curtain
of
rain
and
the
span
of
a
few
months
.
She
stood
,
in
a
room
of
crumbling
plaster
,
pressed
to
the
windowpane
,
looking
up
at
the
unattainable
form
of
everything
she
loved
.
She
did
not
know
the
nature
of
her
loneliness
.
The
only
words
that
named
it
were
:
This
is
not
the
world
I
expected
.
Once
,
when
she
was
sixteen
,
looking
at
a
long
stretch
of
Taggart
track
,
at
the
rails
that
converged
—
like
the
lines
of
a
skyscraper
—
to
a
single
point
in
the
distance
,
she
had
told
Eddie
Willers
that
she
had
always
felt
as
if
the
rails
were
held
in
the
hand
of
a
man
beyond
the
horizon
—
no
,
not
her
father
or
any
of
the
men
in
the
office
—
and
some
day
she
would
meet
him
.
She
shook
her
head
and
turned
away
from
the
window
.
She
went
back
to
her
desk
.
She
tried
to
reach
for
the
reports
.
But
suddenly
she
was
slumped
across
the
desk
,
her
head
on
her
arm
.
Don
’
t
,
she
thought
;
but
she
did
not
move
to
rise
,
it
made
no
difference
,
there
was
no
one
to
see
her
.
This
was
a
longing
she
had
never
permitted
herself
to
acknowledge
.
She
faced
it
now
.
She
thought
:
If
emotion
is
one
’
s
response
to
the
things
the
world
has
to
offer
,
if
she
loved
the
rails
,
the
building
,
and
more
:
if
she
loved
her
love
for
them
—
there
was
still
one
response
,
the
greatest
,
that
she
had
missed
.
