The Great Gatsby / Великий Гэтсби. Книга для чтения на английском языке

This is a valley of ashes – a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke.

But above the gray land and the spasms of cheerless dust which move endlessly over it, you notice, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. These eyes are blue and gigantic. There is no face, but, instead, the eyes look from a pair of enormous yellow glasses which pass over a non-existent nose. Evidently some wild joker of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness[35 - then sank down himself into eternal blindness – потом сам отошел в край вечной слепоты], or forgot them and moved away.

But his eyes, that became a little paler because of many paintless days under sun and rain, overhang over the solemn ground.

The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and, when the drawbridge is up to let barges go through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the sad scene for half an hour.

It was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress.

Everyone who knew him insisted upon the fact that Tom had an affair. His acquaintances were shocked by the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her. Though I was curious to see her, I had no desire to meet her – but I did. I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ash heaps he jumped to his feet and, taking me by the elbow, literally forced me from the car[36 - literally forced me from the car – буквально вытащил меня из вагона].

“We’re getting off,” he insisted. “I want you to meet my girl.”

I think he’d eaten a lot for lunch, and violently wanted to take me with him. I followed him and we walked back a hundred yards along the road under Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare. The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick.

It contained three shops; one of them was for rent and another was an all night restaurant; the third was a garage – Repairs. George B. Wilson, Cars bought and sold – and I followed Tom inside.

The interior was poor and bare; the only car visible was a dust-covered Ford. The owner himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste[37 - wiping his hands on a piece of waste – вытирая руки ветошью].