Three days later, Dominique still has not seen Roark. She sits alone at her dressing table late at night. She presses her fingertips, wet with perfume, to her temples, seeking relief in the cold bite of the liquid on her skin. She thinks she should try to sleep. Dominique does not hear the sounds of footsteps outside, even though the French windows of her bedroom are open to the garden. She hears the footsteps only as they rise up the stairs to her terrace. She looks at the French windows; Roark enters. Dominique resists him physically, but Roark refuses to relent. Although her servants are nearby, she refuses to scream. She is not certain whether, in the first instant of feeling his skin against hers, she thrust her elbows at his throat trying to escape or "whether she lay still in his arms." This was "the thing she had thought about, had expected, had never known to be like this, could not have known because this . . . was the kind of rapture she had wanted." Their resulting lovemaking is so passionate that "it was not part of living, but a thing one could not bear longer than a second." When Roark leaves, not a word has been spoken between them. Dominique feels that she must bathe. When she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror, she sees the purple bruises left on her body by his mouth and she moans: "She knew that she would not take a bath. She knew that she wanted to keep the feel of his body, the traces of his body on hers, knowing also what such a desire implied." Rather than wash away her lover's touch, she lays all night on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. As for Roark, when Roger Enright recalls him to New York to design the Enright House, he thinks of Dominique even then. Architecture is no longer the sole mistress of his soul.
Roger Enright is a hard-bitten entrepreneur who began his working life as a coal miner in Pennsylvania. A self-made man, no one had helped him on his way to becoming a millionaire. That, he says, is why no one ever stood in his way. He never bought a share of stock or sold a share in any of his enterprises. He holds his fortune single-handed, "as simply as if he carried all his cash in his pocket." He owns an oil business, a publishing house, a restaurant, a radio shop, a garage, and a refrigerator-manufacturing plant. Before venturing into a field, he studies it for a long time, then acts as if he's never heard of any of the field's accepted wisdom. Enright's innovative ventures sometimes fail but often succeed, and he runs them all with the same ferocious energy, working twelve hours a day. Roark's work on the Enright House brings not only recognition but also more work.
