needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker walked back into the library, while, trying to look pleasantly interested, I followed Daisy to the porch in front, where we sat down side by side on a wicker settee25.
Daisy took her face in her hands and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet twilight. I saw that unquiet emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some calming questions about her little girl.
“We don’t know each other very well, Nick,” she said suddenly. “Even if we are cousins. You didn’t come to my wedding.”
“I wasn’t back from the war.”
“That’s true.” She hesitated. “Well, I’ve had a very bad time, Nick, and I’m pretty cynical about everything.”
Evidently she had reason to be. I waited but she didn’t say any more, and after a moment I returned rather weakly to the subject of her daughter.
“I suppose she talks, and – eats, and everything.”
“Oh, yes.” She looked at me absently. “Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?”
“Very much.”
“It’ll show you how I’ve gotten to feel about – things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling26, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and cried. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.’ ”
“You see I think everything’s terrible anyhow,” she went on in a convinced way. “Everybody thinks so. And I know. I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything.” She laughed with thrilling scorn. “Sophisticated – God, I’m sophisticated!”
I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said27. It made me worried, as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to get some emotion from me.
Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from The Saturday Evening Post. When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand28.
“To be continued,” she said, throwing the magazine on the table, “in our very next issue.” She stood up. “Ten o’clock,” she remarked, as though finding the time on the ceiling. “Time for this good girl to go to bed.”
“Jordan’s going to play in the tournament tomorrow,” explained Daisy.
“Oh – you’re Jordan Baker.”
I knew now why her face was familiar – its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many pictures of the sporting life at Hot Springs and Palm Beach29. I had heard some unpleasant story of her too, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.
“Good night,” she said softly. “Wake me at eight, won’t you?”
“If you’ll get up.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you anon30.”
“Of course you will,” confirmed Daisy. “In fact, I think I’ll arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and I’ll sort of – oh – fling you together31. You know – lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat —”
“Good night,” called Miss Baker from the stairs. “I haven’t heard a word.”
“She’s a nice girl,” said Tom after a moment. “Her family oughtn’t to let her run around the country this way.”
“Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Nick’s going to look after her, aren’t you, Nick? She’s going to spend lots of week-ends out here this summer. I think the home influence will be very good for her.”
Daisy and Tom looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Did you give Nick a little heart-to-heart talk on the veranda?” demanded Tom suddenly.
“Did I?” She looked at me. “I can’t seem to remember, but I think we talked about the Nordic race. Yes, I’m sure we did. And first thing you know —”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Nick,” he advised me.
I said lightly that I had heard nothing at all, and a few minutes later I got up to go home. As I started my motor Daisy called: “Wait! I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. We heard you were engaged to a girl out West.”
“That’s right,” agreed Tom kindly. “We heard that you were engaged.”
“It’s a libel. I’m too poor.”
Of course I knew what they were referring to, but I wasn’t even vaguely engaged. This gossip was one of the reasons I had come East. You can’t stop going with an old friend because of rumors, and on the other hand I didn’t want the rumors to make me marry anyone.
Their interest touched me – nevertheless, I was confused and a little disgusted as I drove away. It seemed to me that the thing for Daisy to do was to rush out of the house, child in arms – but apparently there were no such thoughts in her head.
When I reached my house at West Egg I sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller32 in the yard. The silhouette of a moving cat was seen across the moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone – fifty feet away a figure had appeared from the shadow of my neighbor’s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets looking at the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his lazy movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction33. But I didn’t call to him, as he gave a sudden sign that he was content to be alone – he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn34 he was trembling. Automatically I glanced seaward – and could see nothing except a single green light that maybe was the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had disappeared, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.
1. Read the chapter and answer if these statements are true, false or there is no information in the text.
1. The Carraways – Nick’s family – are poor.
2. When Nick wanted to go East after the War, his relatives were not sure, but agreed at last.
3. A woman from Finland used to come to cook for Nick.
4. The place where Nick rented the house was called
wicker settee – плетеный диванчик
I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling – я очнулась после наркоза, чувствуя себя всеми брошенной
I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. – В глубине ее слов я чувствовал неискренность.
she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand – она предостерегающе подняла руку, чтобы мы молчали
Hot Springs and Palm Beach – Хот-Спрингс и Палм-Бич – небольшие города в США
see you anon – пока; до встречи
I’ll sort of – oh – fling you together – я – как это говорится? – брошу вас в объятия друг друга
an abandoned grass roller – брошенная старая газонокосилка
that would do for an introduction – это сойдет для знакомства
I could have sworn – я мог бы поклясться
