Atlas Shrugged

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 "I can take care of myself."
"John, there's no reason for you to take the risk," said Francisco.
"What risk?"
"The looters are. worried about the men who've disappeared. They're suspecting something. You, of all
people, shouldn't stay there any longer. There's always a chance that they might discover just who and
what you are."
"There's some chance. Not much."
"But there's no reason whatever to take it. There's nothing left that Ragnar and I can't finish."
Hugh Akston was watching them silently, leaning back in his chair; his face had that look of intensity,
neither quite bitterness nor quite a SOS smile, with which a man watches a progression that interests him,
but that lags a few steps behind his vision.
"If I go back," said Galt, "it won't be for our work. It will be to win the only thing I want from the world
for myself, now that the work is done. I've taken nothing from the world and I've wanted nothing. But
there's one thing which it's still holding and which is mine and which I won't let it have. No, I don't intend
to break my oath, I won't deal with the looters, I won't be of any value or help to anyone out there,
neither to looters nor neutrals—nor scabs. If I go, it won't be for anyone's sake but mine—and I don't
think I'm risking my life, but if I am—well, I'm now free to risk it."
He was not looking at her, but she had to turn away and stand pressed against the window frame,
because her hands were trembling.
"But, John!" cried Mulligan, waving his arm at the valley, "if anything happens to you, what would we—"
He stopped abruptly and guiltily.
Galt chuckled. "What were you about to say?" Mulligan waved his hand sheepishly, in a gesture of
dismissal. "Were you about to say that if anything happens to me, I'll die as the worst failure in the
world?"
"All right," said Mulligan guiltily, "I won't say it. I won't say that we couldn't get along without you—we
can, I won't beg you to stay here for our sake—I didn't think I'd ever revert to that rotten old plea, but,
boy!
—what a temptation it was, I can almost see why people do it. I know that whatever it is you want, if
you wish to risk your life, that's all there is to it—but I'm thinking only that it's . . . oh God, John, it's such
a valuable life!"
Galt smiled. "I know it. That's why I don't think I'm risking it—I think I'll win."
Francisco was now silent, he was watching Galt intently, with a frown of wonder, not as if he had found
an answer, but as if he had suddenly glimpsed a question.
"Look, John," said Mulligan, "since you haven't decided whether you'll go—you haven't decided it yet,
have you?"