-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Айн Рэнд
-
- Атлант расправил плечи
-
- Стр. 864/1581
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
There
it
was
:
the
punishment
that
required
the
victim
’
s
own
virtue
as
the
fuel
to
make
it
work
—
his
invention
of
Rearden
Metal
being
used
as
the
cause
of
his
expropriation
—
Dagny
’
s
honor
and
the
depth
of
their
feeling
for
each
other
being
used
as
a
tool
of
blackmail
,
a
blackmail
from
which
the
depraved
would
be
immune
—
and
,
in
the
People
’
s
States
of
Europe
,
millions
of
men
being
held
in
bondage
by
means
of
their
desire
to
live
,
by
means
of
their
energy
drained
in
forced
labor
,
by
means
of
their
ability
to
feed
their
masters
,
by
means
of
the
hostage
system
,
of
their
love
for
their
children
or
wives
or
friends
—
by
means
of
love
,
ability
and
pleasure
as
the
fodder
for
threats
and
the
bait
for
extortion
,
with
love
tied
to
fear
,
ability
to
punishment
,
ambition
to
confiscation
,
with
blackmail
as
law
,
with
escape
from
pain
,
not
quest
for
pleasure
,
as
the
only
incentive
to
effort
and
the
only
reward
of
achievement
—
men
held
enslaved
by
means
of
whatever
living
power
they
possessed
and
of
whatever
joy
they
found
in
life
.
Such
was
the
code
that
the
world
had
accepted
and
such
was
the
key
to
the
code
:
that
it
hooked
man
’
s
love
of
existence
to
a
circuit
of
torture
,
so
that
only
the
man
who
had
nothing
to
offer
would
have
nothing
to
fear
,
so
that
the
virtues
which
made
life
possible
and
the
values
which
gave
it
meaning
became
the
agents
of
its
destruction
,
so
that
one
’
s
best
became
the
tool
of
one
’
s
agony
,
and
man
’
s
life
on
earth
became
impractical
.
"
Yours
was
the
code
of
life
,
"
said
the
voice
of
a
man
whom
he
could
not
forget
.
"
What
,
then
,
is
theirs
?
"
Why
had
the
world
accepted
it
?
—
he
thought
.
How
had
the
victims
come
to
sanction
a
code
that
pronounced
them
guilty
of
the
fact
of
existing
?
.
.
.
And
then
the
violence
of
an
inner
blow
became
the
total
stillness
of
his
body
as
he
sat
looking
at
a
sudden
vision
:
Hadn
’
t
he
done
it
also
?
Hadn
’
t
he
given
his
sanction
to
the
code
of
self
damnation
?
Dagny
—
he
thought
—
and
the
depth
of
their
feeling
for
each
other
.
.
.
the
blackmail
from
which
the
depraved
would
be
immune
.
.
.
hadn
’
t
he
,
too
,
once
called
it
depravity
?
Hadn
’
t
he
been
first
to
throw
at
her
all
the
insults
which
the
human
scum
was
now
threatening
to
throw
at
her
in
public
?
Hadn
’
t
he
accepted
as
guilt
the
highest
happiness
he
had
ever
found
?
"
You
who
won
’
t
allow
one
per
cent
of
impurity
into
an
alloy
of
metal
,
"
the
unforgotten
voice
was
saying
to
him
,
"
what
have
you
allowed
into
your
moral
code
?
"
"
Well
,
Mr
.
Rearden
?
"
said
the
voice
of
Dr
.
Ferris
.
"
Do
you
understand
me
now
?
Do
we
get
the
Metal
or
do
we
make
a
public
showplace
out
of
Miss
Taggart
’
s
bedroom
?
"
He
was
not
seeing
Dr
.
Ferris
.
He
was
seeing
—
in
the
violent
clarity
that
was
like
a
spotlight
tearing
every
riddle
open
to
him
—
the
day
he
met
Dagny
for
the
first
time
.
It
was
a
few
months
after
she
had
become
Vice
-
President
of
Taggart
Transcontinental
.
He
had
been
hearing
skeptically
,
for
some
time
,
the
rumors
that
the
railroad
was
run
by
Jim
Taggart
’
s
sister
.
That
summer
,
when
he
grew
exasperated
at
Taggart
’
s
delays
and
contradictions
over
an
order
of
rail
for
a
new
cutoff
,
an
order
which
Taggart
kept
placing
,
altering
and
withdrawing
,
somebody
told
him
that
if
he
wished
to
get
any
sense
or
action
out
of
Taggart
Transcontinental
,
he
’
d
better
speak
to
Jim
’
s
sister
.
He
telephoned
her
office
to
make
an
appointment
and
insisted
on
having
it
that
same
afternoon
.
Her
secretary
told
him
that
Miss
Taggart
would
be
at
the
construction
site
of
the
new
cutoff
,
that
afternoon
,
at
Milford
Station
between
New
York
and
Philadelphia
,
but
would
be
glad
to
see
him
there
if
he
wished
.
He
went
to
the
appointment
resentfully
;
he
did
not
like
such
businesswomen
as
he
had
met
,
and
he
felt
that
railroads
were
no
business
for
a
woman
to
play
with
;
he
expected
a
spoiled
heiress
who
used
her
name
and
sex
as
substitute
for
ability
,
some
eyebrow
-
plucked
,
over
groomed
female
,
like
the
lady
executives
of
department
stores
.
He
got
off
the
last
car
of
a
long
train
,
far
beyond
the
platform
of
Milford
Station
.
There
was
a
clutter
of
sidings
,
freight
cars
,
cranes
and
steam
shovels
around
him
,
descending
from
the
main
track
down
the
slope
of
a
ravine
where
men
were
grading
the
roadbed
of
the
new
cutoff
.
He
started
walking
between
the
sidings
toward
the
station
building
.
Then
he
stopped
.
