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The
stocky
,
elderly
man
was
obviously
a
businessman
of
the
conscientious
,
unspectacular
kind
.
His
formal
dress
suit
was
of
good
quality
,
but
of
a
cut
fashionable
twenty
years
before
,
with
the
faintest
tinge
of
green
at
the
seams
;
he
had
had
few
occasions
to
wear
it
.
His
shirt
studs
were
ostentatiously
too
large
,
but
it
was
the
pathetic
ostentation
of
an
heirloom
,
intricate
pieces
of
old
-
fashioned
workmanship
,
that
had
probably
come
to
him
through
four
generations
,
like
his
business
.
His
face
had
the
expression
which
,
these
days
,
was
the
mark
of
an
honest
man
:
an
expression
of
bewilderment
.
He
was
looking
at
his
companion
,
trying
hard
—
conscientiously
,
helplessly
,
hopelessly
—
to
understand
.
His
companion
was
younger
and
shorter
,
a
small
man
with
lumpy
flesh
,
with
a
chest
thrust
forward
and
the
thin
points
of
a
mustache
thrust
up
.
He
was
saying
,
in
a
tone
of
patronizing
boredom
,
"
Well
,
I
don
’
t
know
.
All
of
you
are
crying
about
rising
costs
,
it
seems
to
be
the
stock
complaint
nowadays
,
it
’
s
the
usual
whine
of
people
whose
profits
are
squeezed
a
little
.
I
don
’
t
know
,
we
’
ll
have
to
see
,
we
’
ll
have
to
decide
whether
we
’
ll
permit
you
to
make
any
profits
or
not
.
"
Rearden
glanced
at
Francisco
—
and
saw
a
face
that
went
beyond
his
conception
of
what
the
purity
of
a
single
purpose
could
do
to
a
human
countenance
:
it
was
the
most
merciless
face
one
could
ever
be
permitted
to
see
.
He
had
thought
of
himself
as
ruthless
,
but
he
knew
that
he
could
not
match
this
level
,
naked
,
implacable
look
,
dead
to
all
feeling
but
justice
.
Whatever
the
rest
of
him
—
thought
Rearden
—
the
man
who
could
experience
this
was
a
giant
.
It
was
only
a
moment
.
Francisco
turned
to
him
,
his
face
normal
,
and
said
very
quietly
,
"
I
’
ve
changed
my
mind
,
Mr
.
Rearden
.
I
’
m
glad
that
you
came
to
this
party
.
I
want
you
to
see
this
.
"
Then
,
raising
his
voice
,
Francisco
said
suddenly
,
in
the
gay
,
loose
,
piercing
tone
of
a
man
of
complete
irresponsibility
,
"
You
won
’
t
grant
me
that
loan
,
Mr
.
Rearden
?
It
puts
me
on
a
terrible
spot
.
I
must
get
the
money
—
I
must
raise
it
tonight
—
I
must
raise
it
before
the
Stock
Exchange
opens
in
the
morning
,
because
otherwise
—
"
He
did
not
have
to
continue
,
because
the
little
man
with
the
mustache
was
clutching
at
his
arm
.
Rearden
had
never
believed
that
a
human
body
could
change
dimensions
within
one
’
s
sight
,
but
he
saw
the
man
shrinking
in
weight
,
in
posture
,
in
form
,
as
if
the
air
were
let
out
of
his
lumps
,
and
what
had
been
an
arrogant
ruler
was
suddenly
a
piece
of
scrap
that
could
not
be
a
threat
to
anyone
.
