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- Айн Рэнд
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- Атлант расправил плечи
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- Стр. 988/1581
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When
she
was
ready
,
he
carried
her
suitcase
to
a
taxicab
,
then
down
the
platform
of
the
Taggart
Terminal
to
her
office
car
,
the
last
at
the
end
of
the
Comet
.
He
stood
on
the
platform
,
saw
the
train
jerk
forward
and
watched
the
red
markers
on
the
back
of
her
car
slipping
slowly
away
from
him
into
the
long
darkness
of
the
exit
tunnel
.
When
they
were
gone
,
he
felt
what
one
feels
at
the
loss
of
a
dream
one
had
not
known
till
after
it
was
lost
.
There
were
few
people
on
the
platform
around
him
and
they
seemed
to
move
with
self
-
conscious
strain
,
as
if
a
sense
of
disaster
clung
to
the
rails
and
to
the
girders
above
their
heads
.
He
thought
indifferently
that
after
a
century
of
safety
,
men
were
once
more
regarding
the
departure
of
a
train
as
an
event
involving
a
gamble
with
death
.
He
remembered
that
he
had
had
no
dinner
,
and
he
felt
no
desire
to
eat
,
but
the
underground
cafeteria
of
the
Taggart
Terminal
was
more
truly
his
home
than
the
empty
cube
of
space
he
now
thought
of
as
his
apartment
—
so
he
walked
to
the
cafeteria
,
because
he
had
no
other
place
to
go
.
The
cafeteria
was
almost
deserted
—
but
the
first
thing
he
saw
,
as
he
entered
,
was
a
thin
column
of
smoke
rising
from
the
cigarette
of
the
worker
,
who
sat
alone
at
a
table
in
a
dark
corner
.
Not
noticing
what
he
put
on
his
tray
,
Eddie
carried
it
to
the
worker
’
s
table
,
said
,
"
Hello
,
"
sat
down
and
said
nothing
else
.
He
looked
at
the
silverware
spread
before
him
,
wondered
about
its
purpose
,
remembered
the
use
of
a
fork
and
attempted
to
perform
the
motions
of
eating
,
but
found
that
it
was
beyond
his
power
.
After
a
while
,
he
looked
up
and
saw
that
the
worker
’
s
eyes
were
studying
him
attentively
.
"
No
,
"
said
Eddie
,
"
no
,
there
’
s
nothing
the
matter
with
me
.
.
.
Oh
yes
,
a
lot
has
happened
,
but
what
difference
does
it
make
now
?
.
.
.
Yes
,
she
’
s
back
.
.
.
What
else
do
you
want
me
to
say
about
it
?
.
.
.
How
did
you
know
she
’
s
back
?
Oh
well
,
I
suppose
the
whole
company
knew
it
within
the
first
ten
minutes
.
.
.
No
,
I
don
’
t
know
whether
I
’
m
glad
that
she
’
s
back
.
.
.
Sure
,
she
’
ll
save
the
railroad
—
for
another
year
or
month
.
.
.
What
do
you
want
me
to
say
?
.
.
.
No
,
she
didn
’
t
.
She
didn
’
t
tell
me
what
she
’
s
counting
on
.
She
didn
’
t
tell
me
what
she
thought
or
felt
.
.
.
Well
,
how
do
you
suppose
she
’
d
feel
?
It
’
s
hell
for
her
—
all
right
,
for
me
,
too
!
Only
my
kind
of
hell
is
my
own
fault
.
.
.
No
.
Nothing
.
I
can
’
t
talk
about
it
—
talk
?
—
I
mustn
’
t
even
think
about
it
,
I
’
ve
got
to
stop
it
,
stop
thinking
of
her
and
—
of
her
,
I
mean
.
"
