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But
there
is
to
be
no
alimony
and
no
property
settlement
.
"
The
attorney
had
looked
at
him
with
the
hint
of
a
wise
,
sad
smile
,
as
if
this
were
an
event
he
had
expected
to
happen
long
ago
.
He
had
answered
,
"
Okay
,
Hank
.
It
can
be
done
.
But
it
will
take
some
time
.
"
"
Make
it
as
fast
as
you
can
.
"
No
one
had
questioned
him
about
his
signature
on
the
Gift
Certificate
.
But
he
had
noticed
that
the
men
at
the
mills
looked
at
him
with
a
kind
of
searching
curiosity
,
almost
as
if
they
expected
to
find
the
scars
of
some
physical
torture
on
his
body
.
He
felt
nothing
—
nothing
but
the
sense
of
an
even
,
restful
twilight
,
like
a
spread
of
slag
over
a
molten
metal
,
when
it
crusts
and
swallows
the
last
brilliant
spurt
of
the
white
glow
within
.
He
felt
nothing
at
the
thought
of
the
looters
who
were
now
going
to
manufacture
Rearden
Metal
.
His
desire
to
hold
his
right
to
it
and
proudly
to
be
the
only
one
to
sell
it
,
had
been
his
form
of
respect
for
his
fellow
men
,
his
belief
that
to
trade
with
them
was
an
act
of
honor
.
The
belief
,
the
respect
and
the
desire
were
gone
.
He
did
not
care
what
men
made
,
what
they
sold
,
where
they
bought
his
Metal
or
whether
any
of
them
would
know
that
it
had
been
his
.
The
human
shapes
moving
past
him
in
the
streets
of
the
city
were
physical
objects
without
any
meaning
.
The
countryside
—
with
the
darkness
washing
away
all
traces
of
human
activity
,
leaving
only
an
untouched
earth
which
he
had
once
been
able
to
handle
—
was
real
.
He
carried
a
gun
in
his
pocket
,
as
advised
by
the
policemen
of
the
radio
car
that
patrolled
the
roads
;
they
had
warned
him
that
no
road
was
safe
after
dark
,
these
days
.
He
felt
,
with
a
touch
of
mirthless
amusement
,
that
the
gun
had
been
needed
at
the
mills
,
not
in
the
peaceful
safety
of
loneliness
and
night
;
what
could
some
starving
vagrant
take
from
him
,
compared
to
what
had
been
taken
by
men
who
claimed
to
be
his
protectors
?
He
walked
with
an
effortless
speed
,
feeling
relaxed
by
a
form
of
activity
that
was
natural
to
him
.
This
was
his
period
of
training
for
solitude
,
he
thought
;
he
had
to
learn
to
live
without
any
awareness
of
people
,
the
awareness
that
now
paralyzed
him
with
revulsion
.
He
had
once
built
his
fortune
,
starting
out
with
empty
hands
;
now
he
had
to
rebuild
his
life
,
starting
out
with
an
empty
spirit
.
He
would
give
himself
a
short
span
of
time
for
the
training
,
he
thought
,
and
then
he
would
claim
the
one
incomparable
value
still
left
to
him
,
the
one
desire
that
had
remained
pure
and
whole
:
he
would
go
to
Dagny
.
Two
commandments
had
grown
in
his
mind
;
one
was
a
duty
,
the
other
a
passionate
wish
.
The
first
was
never
to
let
her
learn
the
reason
of
his
surrender
to
the
looters
;
the
second
was
to
say
to
her
the
words
which
he
should
have
known
at
their
first
meeting
and
should
have
said
on
the
gallery
of
Ellis
Wyatt
’
s
house
.
There
was
nothing
but
the
strong
summer
starlight
to
guide
him
,
as
he
walked
,
but
he
could
distinguish
the
highway
and
the
remnant
of
a
stone
fence
ahead
,
at
the
corner
of
a
country
crossroad
.
The
fence
had
nothing
to
protect
any
longer
,
only
a
spread
of
weeds
,
a
willow
tree
bending
over
the
road
and
,
farther
in
the
distance
,
the
ruin
of
a
farmhouse
with
the
starlight
showing
through
its
roof
.
