Atlas Shrugged

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 "I can forgive all those others, they're not vicious, they're merely helpless. But you—you're the kind who
can't be forgiven."
"It is against the sin of forgiveness that I wanted to warn you."
"You had the greatest chance in life. What have you done with it?
If you have the mind to understand all the things you said, how can you speak to me at all? How can you
face anyone after the sort of irresponsible destruction you've perpetrated in that Mexican business?"
"It is your right to condemn me for it, if you wish."
Dagny stood by the corner of the window recess, listening. They did not notice her. She had seen them
together and she had approached, drawn by an impulse she could not explain or resist; it seemed
crucially important that she know what these two men said to each other.
She had heard their last few sentences. She had never thought it possible that she would see Francisco
taking a beating. He could smash any adversary in any form of encounter. Yet he stood, offering no
defense.
She knew that it was not indifference; she knew his face well enough to see the effort his calm cost
him—she saw the faint line of a muscle pulled tight across his cheek.
"Of all those who live by the ability of others," said Rearden, "you're the one real parasite."
"I have given you grounds to think so."
"Then what right have you to talk about the meaning of being a man? You're the one who has betrayed
it."
"I am sorry if I have offended you by what you may rightly consider as a presumption."
Francisco bowed and turned to go. Rearden said involuntarily, not knowing that the question negated his
anger, that it was a plea to stop this man and hold him, "What did you want to learn to understand about
me?"
Francisco turned. The expression of his face had not changed; it was still a look of gravely courteous
respect. "I have learned it," he answered.
Rearden stood watching him as he walked off into the crowd. The figures of a butler, with a crystal dish,
and of Dr. Pritchett, stooping to choose another canape, hid Francisco from sight. Rearden glanced out
at the darkness; nothing could be seen there but the wind.
Dagny stepped forward, when he came out of the recess; she smiled, openly inviting conversation. He
stopped. It seemed to her that he had stopped reluctantly. She spoke hastily, to break the silence.
"Hank, why do you have so many intellectuals of the looter persuasion here? I wouldn't have them in my
house."
This was not what she had wanted to say to him. But she did not know what she wanted to say; never