After a pause, the next thing he said was:
"Dagny, have you heard about that discussion at the structural steel workers' union meeting in Detroit?"
"No. What discussion?"
"It was in all the newspapers. They debated about whether their members should or should not be permitted to work with Rearden metal... What if... what if everybody decides against it?"
Throughout their discussion, he brings up several other similar cases. Later, he gets to the main point:
"Dagny, are we... are we going to have that line built... on time?"
It was strange to hear a note of plain emotion in his voice, the uncomplicated sound of animal fear.
"God help this city, if we don't!" she answered.
The car turned a corner. Above the black roofs of the city, she saw the page of the calendar, hit by the white glare of a spotlight. It said: January 29.
"Dan Conway is a bastard!"
The words broke out suddenly, as if he could not hold them any longer.
She looked at him, bewildered. "Why?"
"He refused to sell us the Colorado track of the Phoenix-Durango."
Recall, of course, what the calendar represented from the beginning of the book: "Your days are numbered."
So, why did he not finish his sentence? Perhaps he got distracted by remembering the Steelworkers' Union discussion. More likely, that was never really the point: the point was Dan Conway refusing to sell them the rails.