“The only justification of private property,” said Orren Boyle, “is public service.” “That is, I think, indubitable,” said Wesley Mouch. Orren Boyle made a noise, swallowing his liquor. He was a large man with big, virile gestures; everything about his person was loudly full of life, except the small black slits of his eyes. “Jim,” he said, “Rearden Metal seems to be a colossal kind of swindle.” “Uh-huh,” said Taggart. “I hear there’s not a single expert who’s given a favorable report on it.” “No, not one.”
