Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby - стр. 2

He could not hide the enormous power of his body. It was a body capable of enormous leverage – a cruel body.

His voice was a gruff husky tenor. “Now, don't think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I'm stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he wanted me to like him.

We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.

“I've got a nice place here,” he said. He turned me around, politely and abruptly. “We'll go inside.”

We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space. The windows were ajar and gleaming. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags.

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were lying. They were both in white. I stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall.

Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room. The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was completely motionless and with her chin raised a little.

The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise. She leaned slightly forward – then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too and came forward into the room.

“I'm p-paralyzed with happiness.”

She laughed again, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face.

She murmured that the surname of the other girl was Baker. Miss Baker's lips fluttered, she nodded at me and then quickly tipped her head back again.

I looked back at my cousin who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice. Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth.

I told her how I had visited in Chicago some friends and how a dozen people had sent her their love.

“Do they miss me?” she cried.

“The whole town is desolate. All the automobiles are painted black and there's a persistent wail all night.”

“How gorgeous! Let's go back, Tom. Tomorrow!” Then she added irrelevantly: “You must see the baby.”

“I'd like to.”

“She's asleep. She's two years old. Haven't you ever seen her?”

“Never.”

“Well, you must see her. She's…”

Tom Buchanan rested his hand on my shoulder.

“What do you do, Nick?”

“I'm a bond man.”

“Who with?”

I told him.

“Never heard of them,” he remarked decisively.

This annoyed me.

“You will,” I answered shortly. “You will if you stay in the East.”

“Oh, I'll stay in the East, don't you worry,” he said, glancing at Daisy and then back at me.

At this point Miss Baker said “Absolutely!” It was the first word she uttered since I came into the room. It surprised her as much as it did me. She yawned and with a series of rapid, deft movements stood up into the room.

“You see,” Daisy told Miss Baker. “I've been trying to get you to New York all afternoon.”

I looked at Miss Baker, I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender girl, with an erect carriage. Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at me. It occurred to me now that I had seen her, or a picture of her, somewhere before.

“You live in West Egg,” she remarked contemptuously. “I know somebody there.”

“I don't know a single —”