Atlas Shrugged [197]
"1 didn't come to talk to you about my railroad," she said, looking at him in bewilderment. "I have no desire to talk to you about my railroad."
"No?" He sounded disappointed.
"No. I came for information about the motor factory. Could you possibly recall the names of any of the engineers who worked there?"
"I don't believe I ever inquired about their names. I wasn't concerned with the parasites of office and laboratory. I was concerned with the real workers-the men of calloused hands who keep a factory going. They were my friends."
"Can you give me a few of their names? Any names, of anyone who worked there?"
"My dear Miss Taggart, it was so long ago, there were thousands of them, how can I remember?"
"Can't you recall one, any one?"
"I certainly cannot. So many people have always filled my life that I can't be expected to recall individual drops in the ocean."
"Were you familiar with the production of that factory? With the kind of work they were doing-or planning?"
"Certainly. I took a personal interest in all my investments. I went to inspect that factory very often. They were doing exceedingly well.
They were accomplishing wonders. The workers' housing conditions were the best in the country. I saw lace curtains at every window and flowers on the window sills. Every home had a plot of ground for a garden. They had built a new schoolhouse for the children."
"Did you know anything about the work of the factory's research laboratory?"
"Yes, yes, they had a wonderful research laboratory, very advanced, very dynamic, with forward vision and great plans."
"Do you . . . remember hearing anything about . . . any plans to produce a new type of motor?"
"Motor? What motor, Miss Taggart? I had no time for details. My objective was social progress, universal prosperity, human brotherhood and love. Love, Miss Taggart. That is the key to everything. If men learned to love one another, it would solve all their problems."
She turned away, not to see the damp movements of his mouth.
A chunk of stone with Egyptian hieroglyphs lay on a pedestal in a corner of the office-the statue of a Hindu goddess with six spider arms stood in a niche-and a huge graph of bewildering mathematical detail, like the sales chart of a mail-order house, hung on the wall.
"Therefore, if you're thinking of your railroad, Miss Taggart-as, of course, you are, in view of certain possible developments-I must point out to you that although the welfare of the country is my first consideration, to which I would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone's profits, still, I have never closed my ears to a plea for mercy and-"
She looked at him and understood what it was that he wanted from her, what sort of motive kept him going.
"I don't wish to discuss my railroad," she said, fighting to keep her voice monotonously flat, while she wanted to scream in revulsion. "Anything you have to say on the subject, you will please say it to my brother, Mr. James Taggart."
"I'd think that at a time like this you wouldn't want to pass up a rare opportunity to plead your case before-"
"Have you preserved any records pertaining to the motor factory?"
She sat straight, her hands clasped tight together.
"What records? I believe I told you that I lost everything I owned when the bank collapsed." His body had gone slack once more, his interest had vanished. "But I do not mind it. What I lost was mere material wealth. I am not the first man in history to suffer for an ideal. I was defeated by the selfish greed of those around me. I couldn't establish a system of brotherhood and love in just one small state, amidst a nation of profit-seekers and dollar-grubbers. It was not my fault. But I won't let them beat me. I am not to be stopped. I am