s seen him meet facts. She remembered the story Francisco had told her: “He had quit the Twentieth Century. He was living in a garret in a slum neighborhood. He stepped 浙江杭州龙凤 to the window and pointed at the skyscrapers of the city. He

said that we had to extinguish the lights of the world, and when we would see the lights of New York go out, we would know that our job was done.” She thought of it when she saw the three of them-John Galt, Francisco d’Anconia, Ragnar Danneskjold-look silently at one another for a moment. She glanced at Rearden; he was not looking down, he was looking ahead, as she had seen him look at an untouched countryside: with a glance appraising the possibilities of action. When she looked at the darkness ahead, another memory rose in her 杭州夜生活去哪里玩 mind-the moment when, circling above the Afton airport, she had seen the silver body of a plane rise like a phoenix from the darkness of the earth. She knew that now, at this hour, their plane was carrying all that was left of New York City. 杭州SPA信息论坛 She looked ahead. The earth would be as empty as the space where th6ir propeller was cutting an unobstructed path-as empty and as free. She knew what Nat Taggart had felt at his start and why now, for the first time, she was following him in full loyalty: the confident sense of facing a void and of knowing that one has a continent to build. She felt the whole struggle of her past rising before her and dropping away, leaving her here, on the height of this moment. She smiled-and the words in her mind, appraising and sealing the past, were the words of courage, pride and dedication, which most 杭州spa按摩经历 men had never understood, the words of a businessman’s language: “Price no object.” She did not gasp and she felt no tremor when, in the darkness below, she saw a small string of lighted dots struggling slowly westward through the void, with 杭州桑拿一品楼 the long, bright dash of a headlight groping to protect the safety of its way; she felt nothing, even though it was a train and she knew that it had no destination but the void. She turned to Galt. He was watching her face, as if he had been following her thoughts. She saw the reflection of her smile in his. “It’s the end,” she said. “It’s the beginning,” he answered. Then they lay still, leaning back in their chairs, silently looking at each other. Then their persons filled each other’s awareness, as the sum and meaning of the future-but the sum included the knowledge of all that had 杭州龙凤夜生活 had to be earned, before the person of another being could come to embody

the value of one’s existence. New York was far behind them, when they heard Danneskjold answer a call from the radio: “Yes, he’s awake. I don’t think he’ll sleep tonight. . . . Yes, I think he can.” He turned to glance over his shoulder. “John, Dr. Akston would like to speak to you.” “What? Is he on one of those planes behind us?” “Certainly.” Galt leaped forward to seize the microphone. “Hello, Dr. Akston,” he said; the quiet, low tone of his voice was the audible image of a smile transmitted through space. “Hello, 杭州洗浴娱乐休闲场所 John.” The too-conscious steadiness of Hugh Akston’s voice confessed at