«Великий Гэтсби» и другие лучшие произведения Ф.С. Фицджеральда

Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the Saturday Evening Post[24 - the Saturday Evening Post – American weekly journal published in Philadelphia from 1821 till 1969] – the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune. The lamp-light, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair, glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms.

When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand.

�To be continued,’ she said, tossing the magazine on the table, �in our very next issue.’

Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee, and she stood up.

�Ten o’clock,’ she remarked, apparently 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, �over at Westchester.’

�Oh – you’re Jordan Baker.’

I knew now why her face was familiar – its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure[25 - rotogravure – a kind of gravure printed by means of transferring liquid ink from depressions in the printing plate to the paper] pictures of the sporting life at Asheville[26 - Asheville – a city in the Blue Ridge Mountains in west-central Carolina, first settled in 1794] and Hot Springs[27 - Hot Springs – a city and spa resort in central Arkansas] and Palm Beach[28 - Palm Beach – a resort town in southeastern Florida].

I had heard some story of her too, a critical, unpleasant story, 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 anon.’

�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 together.

You know – lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing —’

�Good night,’ called Miss Baker from the stairs. ’I haven’t heard a word.’

�She’s a nice girl,’ said Tom after a moment. �They oughtn’t to let her run around the country this way.’

�Who oughtn’t to?’ inquired Daisy coldly.

�Her family.’

�Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old.