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- Айн Рэнд
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- Атлант расправил плечи
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- Стр. 494/1581
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"
You
.
"
"
How
do
you
mean
that
,
Lillian
?
You
don
’
t
mean
it
in
the
gutter
sense
.
"
"
No
,
not
in
the
gutter
sense
.
"
"
How
,
then
?
"
She
was
at
the
door
,
she
turned
,
she
raised
her
head
to
look
at
him
and
smiled
coldly
.
"
You
wouldn
’
t
understand
it
,
"
she
said
and
walked
out
.
The
torture
remaining
to
him
was
the
knowledge
that
she
would
never
want
to
leave
him
and
he
would
never
have
the
right
to
leave
—
the
thought
that
he
owed
her
at
least
the
feeble
recognition
of
sympathy
,
of
respect
for
a
feeling
he
could
neither
understand
nor
return
—
the
knowledge
that
he
could
summon
nothing
for
her
,
except
contempt
,
a
strange
,
total
,
unreasoning
contempt
,
impervious
to
pity
,
to
reproach
,
to
his
own
pleas
for
justice
—
and
,
hardest
to
bear
,
the
proud
revulsion
against
his
own
verdict
,
against
his
demand
that
he
consider
himself
lower
than
this
woman
he
despised
.
Then
it
did
not
matter
to
him
any
longer
,
it
all
receded
into
some
outer
distance
,
leaving
only
the
thought
that
he
was
willing
to
bear
anything
—
leaving
him
in
a
state
which
was
both
tension
and
peace
—
because
he
lay
in
bed
,
his
face
pressed
to
the
pillow
,
thinking
of
Dagny
,
of
her
slender
,
sensitive
body
stretched
beside
him
,
trembling
under
the
touch
of
his
fingers
.
He
wished
she
were
back
in
New
York
.
If
she
were
,
he
would
have
gone
there
,
now
,
at
once
,
in
the
middle
of
the
night
.
Eugene
Lawson
sat
at
his
desk
as
if
it
were
the
control
panel
of
a
bomber
plane
commanding
a
continent
below
.
But
he
forgot
it
,
at
times
,
and
slouched
down
,
his
muscles
going
slack
inside
his
suit
,
as
if
he
were
pouting
at
the
world
.
His
mouth
was
the
one
part
of
him
which
he
could
not
pull
tight
at
any
time
;
it
was
uncomfortably
prominent
in
his
lean
face
,
attracting
the
eyes
of
any
listener
:
when
he
spoke
,
the
movement
ran
through
his
lower
lip
,
twisting
its
moist
flesh
into
extraneous
contortions
of
its
own
.
