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It
’
s
on
Route
86
,
in
the
mountains
,
west
of
Cheyenne
,
near
a
small
industrial
settlement
by
the
Lennox
Copper
Foundry
.
It
seems
strange
,
but
I
’
m
certain
of
it
:
the
cook
in
that
diner
is
the
man
I
saw
at
the
railroad
station
with
my
husband
’
s
young
idol
.
"
The
diner
stood
on
the
summit
of
a
long
,
hard
climb
.
Its
glass
walls
spread
a
coat
of
polish
over
the
view
of
rocks
and
pines
descending
in
broken
ledges
to
the
sunset
.
It
was
dark
below
,
but
an
even
,
glowing
light
still
remained
in
the
diner
,
as
in
a
small
pool
left
behind
by
a
receding
tide
.
Dagny
sat
at
the
end
of
the
counter
,
eating
a
hamburger
sandwich
.
It
was
the
best
-
cooked
food
she
had
ever
tasted
,
the
product
of
simple
ingredients
and
of
an
unusual
skill
.
Two
workers
were
finishing
their
dinner
;
she
was
waiting
for
them
to
depart
.
She
studied
the
man
behind
the
counter
.
He
was
slender
and
tall
;
he
had
an
air
of
distinction
that
belonged
in
an
ancient
castle
or
in
the
inner
office
of
a
bank
;
but
his
peculiar
quality
came
from
the
fact
that
he
made
the
distinction
seem
appropriate
here
,
behind
the
counter
of
a
diner
.
He
wore
a
cook
’
s
white
jacket
as
if
it
were
a
full
-
dress
suit
.
There
was
an
expert
competence
in
his
manner
of
working
;
his
movements
were
easy
,
intelligently
economical
.
He
had
a
lean
face
and
gray
hair
that
blended
in
tone
with
the
cold
blue
of
his
eyes
;
somewhere
beyond
his
look
of
courteous
sternness
,
there
was
a
note
of
humor
,
so
faint
that
it
vanished
if
one
tried
to
discern
it
.
The
two
workers
finished
,
paid
and
departed
,
each
leaving
a
dime
for
a
tip
.
She
watched
the
man
as
he
removed
their
dishes
,
put
the
dimes
into
the
pocket
of
his
white
jacket
,
wiped
the
counter
,
working
with
swift
precision
.
Then
he
turned
and
looked
at
her
.
It
was
an
impersonal
glance
,
not
intended
to
invite
conversation
;
but
she
felt
certain
that
he
had
long
since
noted
her
New
York
suit
,
her
high
-
heeled
pumps
,
her
air
of
being
a
woman
who
did
not
waste
her
time
;
his
cold
,
observant
eyes
seemed
to
tell
her
that
he
knew
she
did
not
belong
here
and
that
he
was
waiting
to
discover
her
purpose
.
"
How
is
business
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Pretty
bad
.
They
’
re
going
to
close
the
Lennox
Foundry
next
week
,
so
I
’
ll
have
to
close
soon
,
too
,
and
move
on
.
"
His
voice
was
clear
,
impersonally
cordial
.
"
Where
to
?
"
"
I
haven
’
t
decided
.
"
