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- Айн Рэнд
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- Стр. 390/1581
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He
did
not
turn
away
,
but
held
her
glance
,
coldly
and
with
full
intention
.
She
smiled
defiantly
,
not
letting
herself
know
the
full
meaning
of
her
smile
,
knowing
only
that
it
was
the
sharpest
blow
she
could
strike
at
his
inflexible
face
.
She
felt
a
sudden
desire
to
see
him
trembling
,
to
tear
a
cry
out
of
him
.
She
turned
her
head
away
,
slowly
,
feeling
a
reckless
amusement
,
wondering
why
she
found
it
difficult
to
breathe
.
She
sat
leaning
back
in
her
chair
,
looking
ahead
,
knowing
that
he
was
as
aware
of
her
as
she
was
of
him
.
She
found
pleasure
in
the
special
self
-
consciousness
it
gave
her
.
When
she
crossed
her
legs
,
when
she
leaned
on
her
arm
against
the
window
sill
,
when
she
brushed
her
hair
off
her
forehead
—
every
movement
of
her
body
was
underscored
by
a
feeling
the
unadmitted
words
for
which
were
:
Is
he
seeing
it
?
The
towns
had
been
left
behind
.
The
track
was
rising
through
a
country
growing
more
grimly
reluctant
to
permit
approach
.
The
rails
kept
vanishing
behind
curves
,
and
the
ridges
of
hills
kept
moving
closer
,
as
if
the
plains
were
being
folded
into
pleats
.
The
flat
stone
shelves
of
Colorado
were
advancing
to
the
edge
of
the
track
—
and
the
distant
reaches
of
the
sky
were
shrinking
into
waves
of
bluish
mountains
.
Far
ahead
,
they
saw
a
mist
of
smoke
over
factory
chimneys
—
then
the
web
of
a
power
station
and
the
lone
needle
of
a
steel
structure
.
They
were
approaching
Denver
.
She
glanced
at
Pat
Logan
.
He
was
leaning
forward
a
little
farther
;
she
saw
a
slight
tightening
in
the
fingers
of
his
hand
and
in
his
eyes
.
He
knew
,
as
she
did
,
the
danger
of
crossing
a
city
at
the
speed
they
were
traveling
.
It
was
a
succession
of
minutes
,
but
it
hit
them
as
a
single
whole
.
First
,
they
saw
the
lone
shapes
,
which
were
factories
,
rolling
across
their
windowpanes
—
then
the
shapes
fused
into
the
blur
of
streets
—
then
a
delta
of
rails
spread
out
before
them
,
like
the
mouth
of
a
funnel
sucking
them
into
the
Taggart
station
,
with
nothing
to
protect
them
but
the
small
green
beads
of
lights
scattered
over
the
ground
—
from
the
height
of
the
cab
,
they
saw
boxcars
on
sidings
streak
past
as
flat
ribbons
of
roof
tops
—
the
black
hole
of
the
train
-
shed
flew
at
their
faces
—
they
hurtled
through
an
explosion
of
sound
,
the
beating
of
wheels
against
the
glass
panes
of
a
vault
,
and
the
screams
of
cheering
from
a
mass
that
swayed
like
a
liquid
in
the
darkness
among
steel
columns
—
they
flew
toward
a
glowing
arch
and
the
green
lights
hanging
in
the
open
sky
beyond
,
the
green
lights
that
were
like
the
doorknobs
of
space
,
throwing
door
after
door
open
before
them
.
Then
,
vanishing
behind
them
,
went
the
streets
clotted
with
traffic
,
the
open
windows
bulging
with
human
figures
,
the
screaming
sirens
,
and
—
from
the
top
of
a
distant
skyscraper
—
a
cloud
of
paper
snowflakes
shimmering
on
the
air
,
flung
by
someone
who
saw
the
passage
of
a
silver
bullet
across
a
city
stopped
still
to
watch
it
.
Then
they
were
out
again
,
on
a
rocky
grade
—
and
with
shocking
suddenness
,
the
mountains
were
before
them
,
as
if
the
city
had
flung
them
straight
at
a
granite
wall
,
and
a
thin
ledge
had
caught
them
in
time
.
