Atlas Shrugged [255]
"t did underestimate you," he said slowly.
"Oh, well, that's an error I'm willing to help you correct. I know the sort of problem he presents to you. I know why you're afraid of him, as you have good reason to be. But . . . well, you're in business and in politics, so I'll try to say it in your language. A businessman says that he can deliver the goods, and a ward heeler says that he can deliver the vote, is that right? Well, what I wanted you to know is that I can deliver him, any time I choose. You may act accordingly."
In the code of his friends, to reveal any part of one's self was to give a weapon to an enemy-but he signed her confession and matched it, when he said, "I wish I were as smart about my sister."
She looked at him without astonishment; she did not find the words irrelevant. "Yes, there's a tough one," she said. "No vulnerable point?
No weaknesses?"
"None."
"No love affairs?"
"God, no!"
She shrugged, in sign of changing the subject; Dagny Taggart was a person on whom she did not care to dwell. "I think I'll let you run along, so that you can chat a little with Balph Eubank," she said. "He looks worried, because you haven't looked at him all evening and he's wondering whether literature will be left without a friend at court."
"Lillian, you're wonderful!" he said quite spontaneously.
She laughed. "That, my dear, is the non-material tiara I wanted!"
The remnant of a smile stayed on her face as she moved through the crowd, a fluid smile that ran softly into the look of tension and boredom worn by all the faces around her. She moved at random, enjoying the sense of being seen, her eggshell satin gown shimmering like heavy cream with the motion of her tall figure.
It was the green-blue spark that caught her attention: it flashed for an instant under the lights, on the wrist of a thin, naked arm. Then she saw the slender body, the gray dress, the fragile, naked shoulders. She stopped. She looked at the bracelet, frowning.
Dagny turned at her approach. Among the many things that Lillian resented, the impersonal politeness of Dagny's face was the one she resented most.
"What do you think of your brother's marriage, Miss Taggart?" she asked casually, smiling.
"I have no opinion about it."
"Do you mean to say that you don't find it worthy of any thought?"
"If you wish to be exact-yes, that's what I mean."
"Oh, but don't you see any human significance in it?"
"No."
"Don't you think that a person such as your brother's bride does deserve some interest?"
"Why, no."
"I envy you, Miss Taggart. I envy your Olympian detachment. It is, I think, the secret of why lesser mortals can never hope to equal your success in the field of business. They allow their attention to be divided-at least to the extent of acknowledging achievements in other fields."
"What achievements are we talking about?"
"Don't you grant any recognition at all to the women who attain unusual heights of conquest, not in the industrial, but in the human realm?"
"I don't think that there is such a word as 'conquest'-in the human realm."
"Oh, but consider, for instance, how hard other women would have had to work-if work were the only means available to them-to achieve what this girl has achieved through the person of your brother."
"1 don't think she knows the exact nature of what she has achieved."
Rearden saw them together. He approached. He felt that he had to hear it, no matter what the consequences. He stopped silently beside them. He did not know whether Lillian was aware of his presence; he knew that Dagny was.
"Do show a little generosity toward her, Miss Taggart," said Lillian.
"At least, the generosity of attention. You must not despise the women who do not possess your brilliant talent, but who exercise their own particular endowments. Nature always balances her gifts and offers compensations-don't you think so?"
"I'm not sure I understand you."
"Oh, I'm sure you don't want to hear me become more explicit!"
"Why, yes, I do."
Lillian shrugged angrily; among the women who