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He
had
added
,
in
the
monotone
of
reciting
some
impersonal
,
statistical
report
,
"
The
newspapers
are
yelling
that
coal
is
now
the
most
crucial
commodity
in
the
country
.
They
are
also
yelling
that
the
coal
operators
are
profiteering
on
the
oil
shortage
.
One
gang
in
Washington
is
yelling
that
I
am
expanding
too
much
and
something
should
be
done
to
stop
me
,
because
I
am
becoming
a
monopoly
.
Another
gang
in
Washington
is
yelling
that
I
am
not
expanding
enough
and
something
should
be
done
to
let
the
government
seize
my
mines
,
because
I
am
greedy
for
profits
and
unwilling
to
satisfy
the
public
’
s
need
of
fuel
.
At
my
present
rate
of
profit
,
this
Confederated
Coal
property
will
bring
back
the
money
I
spent
on
it
—
in
forty
-
seven
years
.
I
have
no
children
.
I
bought
it
,
because
there
’
s
one
customer
I
don
’
t
dare
leave
without
coal
—
and
that
’
s
Taggart
Transcontinental
.
I
keep
thinking
of
what
would
happen
if
the
railroads
collapsed
.
"
He
had
stopped
,
then
added
,
"
I
don
’
t
know
why
I
still
care
about
that
,
but
I
do
.
Those
people
in
Washington
don
’
t
seem
to
have
a
clear
picture
of
what
that
would
be
like
.
I
have
.
"
Rearden
had
said
,
"
I
’
ll
deliver
the
Metal
.
When
you
need
the
other
half
of
your
order
,
let
me
know
.
I
’
ll
deliver
that
,
too
.
"
At
the
end
of
the
dinner
,
Danagger
had
said
in
the
same
precise
,
impassive
tone
,
the
tone
of
a
man
who
knows
the
exact
meaning
of
his
words
,
"
If
any
employee
of
yours
or
mine
discovers
this
and
attempts
private
blackmail
,
I
will
pay
it
,
within
reason
.
But
I
will
not
pay
,
if
he
has
friends
in
Washington
.
If
any
of
those
come
around
,
then
I
go
to
jail
.
"
"
Then
we
go
together
,
"
Rearden
had
said
.
Standing
alone
in
his
half
-
darkened
room
,
Rearden
noted
that
the
prospect
of
going
to
jail
left
him
blankly
indifferent
.
He
remembered
the
time
when
,
aged
fourteen
,
faint
with
hunger
,
he
would
not
steal
fruit
from
a
sidewalk
stand
.
Now
,
the
possibility
of
being
sent
to
jail
—
if
this
dinner
was
a
felony
—
meant
no
more
to
him
than
the
possibility
of
being
run
over
by
a
truck
:
an
ugly
physical
accident
without
any
moral
significance
.
He
thought
that
he
had
been
made
to
hide
,
as
a
guilty
secret
,
the
only
business
transaction
he
had
enjoyed
in
a
year
’
s
work
—
and
that
he
was
hiding
,
as
a
guilty
secret
,
his
nights
with
Dagny
,
the
only
hours
that
kept
him
alive
.
He
felt
that
there
was
some
connection
between
the
two
secrets
,
some
essential
connection
which
he
had
to
discover
.
He
could
not
grasp
it
,
he
could
not
find
the
words
to
name
it
,
but
he
felt
that
the
day
when
he
would
find
them
,
he
would
answer
every
question
of
his
life
.
He
stood
against
the
wall
,
his
head
thrown
back
,
his
eyes
closed
,
and
thought
of
Dagny
,
and
then
he
felt
that
no
questions
could
matter
to
him
any
longer
.
He
thought
that
he
would
see
her
tonight
,
almost
hating
it
,
because
tomorrow
morning
seemed
so
close
and
then
he
would
have
to
leave
her
—
he
wondered
whether
he
could
remain
in
town
tomorrow
,
or
whether
he
should
leave
now
,
without
seeing
her
,
so
that
he
could
wait
,
so
that
he
could
always
have
it
ahead
of
him
:
the
moment
of
closing
his
hands
over
her
shoulders
and
looking
down
at
her
face
.
You
’
re
going
insane
,
he
thought
—
but
he
knew
that
if
she
were
beside
him
through
every
hour
of
his
days
,
it
would
still
be
the
same
,
he
would
never
have
enough
of
it
,
he
would
have
to
invent
some
senseless
form
of
torture
for
himself
in
order
to
bear
it
—
he
knew
he
would
see
her
tonight
,
and
the
thought
of
leaving
without
it
made
the
pleasure
greater
,
a
moment
’
s
torture
to
underscore
his
certainty
of
the
hours
ahead
.
He
would
leave
the
light
on
in
her
living
room
,
he
thought
,
and
hold
her
across
the
bed
,
and
see
nothing
but
the
curve
of
the
strip
of
light
running
from
her
waist
to
her
ankle
,
a
single
line
drawing
the
whole
shape
of
her
long
,
slim
body
in
the
darkness
,
then
he
would
pull
her
head
into
the
light
,
to
see
her
face
,
to
see
it
falling
back
,
unresisting
,
her
hair
over
his
arm
,
her
eyes
closed
,
the
face
drawn
as
in
a
look
of
pain
,
her
mouth
open
to
him
.
He
stood
at
the
wall
,
waiting
,
to
let
all
the
events
of
the
day
drop
away
from
him
,
to
feel
free
,
to
know
that
the
next
span
of
time
was
his
.
When
the
door
of
his
room
flew
open
without
warning
,
he
did
not
quite
hear
or
believe
it
,
at
first
.
He
saw
the
silhouette
of
a
woman
,
then
of
a
bellboy
who
put
down
a
suitcase
and
vanished
.
The
voice
he
heard
was
Lillian
’
s
:
"
Why
,
Henry
!
All
alone
and
in
the
dark
?
"
