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

Wilson at the Gasoline Pump,” or something like that.’

Catherine leaned close to me and whispered in my ear:

�Neither of them can stand the person they’re married to.’

�Can’t they?’

�Can’t stand them’ She looked at Myrtle and then at Tom. �What I say is, why go on living with them if they can’t stand them? If I was them I’d get a divorce and get married to each other right away.’

�Doesn’t she like Wilson either?’

The answer to this was unexpected. It came from Myrtle, who had overheard the question, and it was violent and obscene.

�You see,’ cried Catherine triumphantly. She lowered her voice again. �It’s really his wife that’s keeping them apart. She’s a Catholic, and they don’t believe in divorce.’

Daisy was not a Catholic, and I was a little shocked at the elaborateness of the lie.

�When they do get married,’ continued Catherine, �they’re going West to live for a while until it blows over.’

�It’d be more discreet to go to Europe.

’

�Oh, do you like Europe?’ she exclaimed surprisingly. �I just got back from Monte Carlo[39 - Monte Carlo – a resort on the French Riviera in Monaco, known for its casino opened in 1861].’

�Really.’

�Just last year. I went over there with another girl.’

�Stay long?’

�No, we just went to Monte Carlo and back. We went by way of Marseilles[40 - Marseilles – a city in southern France and one of the major ports on the Mediterranean Sea].

We had over twelve hundred dollars when we started, but we got gypped out of it all in two days in the private rooms. We had an awful time getting back, I can tell you. God, how I hated that town!’

The late afternoon sky bloomed in the window for a moment like the blue honey of the Mediterranean – then the shrill voice of Mrs. McKee called me back into the room.

�I almost made a mistake, too,’ she declared vigorously. �I almost married a little kyke who’d been after me for years.

I knew he was below me. Everybody kept saying to me: “Lucille, that man’s ’way below you!” But if I hadn’t met Chester, he’d of got me sure.’

�Yes, but listen,’ said Myrtle Wilson, nodding her head up and down, �at least you didn’t marry him.’

�I know I didn’t.’

�Well, I married him,’ said Myrtle, ambiguously. �And that’s the difference between your case and mine.’

�Why did you, Myrtle?’ demanded Catherine.