Atlas Shrugged

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demonstration that will convince you, I'm willing to be—and to win you from them, once and for all. You
didn't want to wait any longer?
Oh, Dagny, Dagny, neither did I!"
It was the way he held her, the way he kissed her mouth that made her feel as if every step she had
taken, every danger, every doubt, even her treason against him, if it was treason, all of it were giving her
an exultant right to this moment. He saw the struggle in her face, the tension of an incredulous protest
against herself—and she heard the sound of his voice through the strands of her hair pressed to his lips:
"Don't think of them now. Never think of pain or danger or enemies a moment longer than is necessary to
fight them. You're here.
It's our time and our life, not theirs. Don't struggle not to be happy.
You are."
"At the risk of destroying you?" she whispered.
"You won't. But—yes, even that. You don't think it's indifference, do you? Was it indifference that
broke you and brought you here?"
"I—" And then the violence of the truth made her pull his mouth down to hers, then throw the words at
his face: "I didn't care whether either one of us lived afterwards, just to see you this once!"
"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't come."
"Do you know what it was like, waiting, fighting it, delaying it one more day, then one more, then—"
He chuckled. "Do I?" he said softly.
Her hand dropped in a helpless gesture: she thought of his ten years. "When I heard your voice on the
radio," she said, "when I heard the greatest statement I ever . . . No, I have no right to tell you what I
thought of it,"
"Why not?"
"You think that I haven't accepted it."
"You will."
"Were you speaking from here?"
"No, from the valley."
"And then you returned to New York?"
"The next morning."
"And you've been here ever since?"
"Yes."