From 500a039f13d2770d6a8673b54b8fb7fcd960a0d6 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Cassie Jones Date: Mon, 11 Nov 2019 17:24:13 -0500 Subject: [PATCH] Remove the goof files --- bee-movie.txt | 3268 ------------------------- gatsby.txt | 6333 ------------------------------------------------- 2 files changed, 9601 deletions(-) delete mode 100644 bee-movie.txt delete mode 100644 gatsby.txt diff --git a/bee-movie.txt b/bee-movie.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1805cfa..0000000 --- a/bee-movie.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3268 +0,0 @@ -According to all known laws -of aviation, - -there is no way a bee -should be able to fly. - -Its wings are too small to get -its fat little body off the ground. - -The bee, of course, flies anyway - -because bees don't care -what humans think is impossible. - -Yellow, black. Yellow, black. -Yellow, black. Yellow, black. - -Ooh, black and yellow! -Let's shake it up a little. - -Barry! Breakfast is ready! - -Coming! - -Hang on a second. - -Hello? - -- Barry? -- Adam? - -- Can you believe this is happening? -- I can't. I'll pick you up. - -Looking sharp. - -Use the stairs. Your father -paid good money for those. - -Sorry. I'm excited. - -Here's the graduate. -We're very proud of you, son. - -A perfect report card, all B's. - -Very proud. - -Ma! I got a thing going here. - -- You got lint on your fuzz. -- Ow! That's me! - -- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. -- Bye! - -Barry, I told you, -stop flying in the house! - -- Hey, Adam. -- Hey, Barry. - -- Is that fuzz gel? -- A little. Special day, graduation. - -Never thought I'd make it. - -Three days grade school, -three days high school. - -Those were awkward. - -Three days college. I'm glad I took -a day and hitchhiked around the hive. - -You did come back different. - -- Hi, Barry. -- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - -- Hear about Frankie? -- Yeah. - -- You going to the funeral? -- No, I'm not going. - -Everybody knows, -sting someone, you die. - -Don't waste it on a squirrel. -Such a hothead. - -I guess he could have -just gotten out of the way. - -I love this incorporating -an amusement park into our day. - -That's why we don't need vacations. - -Boy, quite a bit of pomp... -under the circumstances. - -- Well, Adam, today we are men. -- We are! - -- Bee-men. -- Amen! - -Hallelujah! - -Students, faculty, distinguished bees, - -please welcome Dean Buzzwell. - -Welcome, New Hive City -graduating class of... - -...9:15. - -That concludes our ceremonies. - -And begins your career -at Honex Industries! - -Will we pick ourjob today? - -I heard it's just orientation. - -Heads up! Here we go. - -Keep your hands and antennas -inside the tram at all times. - -- Wonder what it'll be like? -- A little scary. - -Welcome to Honex, -a division of Honesco - -and a part of the Hexagon Group. - -This is it! - -Wow. - -Wow. - -We know that you, as a bee, -have worked your whole life - -to get to the point where you -can work for your whole life. - -Honey begins when our valiant Pollen -Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. - -Our top-secret formula - -is automatically color-corrected, -scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured - -into this soothing sweet syrup - -with its distinctive -golden glow you know as... - -Honey! - -- That girl was hot. -- She's my cousin! - -- She is? -- Yes, we're all cousins. - -- Right. You're right. -- At Honex, we constantly strive - -to improve every aspect -of bee existence. - -These bees are stress-testing -a new helmet technology. - -- What do you think he makes? -- Not enough. - -Here we have our latest advancement, -the Krelman. - -- What does that do? -- Catches that little strand of honey - -that hangs after you pour it. -Saves us millions. - -Can anyone work on the Krelman? - -Of course. Most bee jobs are -small ones. But bees know - -that every small job, -if it's done well, means a lot. - -But choose carefully - -because you'll stay in the job -you pick for the rest of your life. - -The same job the rest of your life? -I didn't know that. - -What's the difference? - -You'll be happy to know that bees, -as a species, haven't had one day off - -in 27 million years. - -So you'll just work us to death? - -We'll sure try. - -Wow! That blew my mind! - -"What's the difference?" -How can you say that? - -One job forever? -That's an insane choice to have to make. - -I'm relieved. Now we only have -to make one decision in life. - -But, Adam, how could they -never have told us that? - -Why would you question anything? -We're bees. - -We're the most perfectly -functioning society on Earth. - -You ever think maybe things -work a little too well here? - -Like what? Give me one example. - -I don't know. But you know -what I'm talking about. - -Please clear the gate. -Royal Nectar Force on approach. - -Wait a second. Check it out. - -- Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! -- Wow. - -I've never seen them this close. - -They know what it's like -outside the hive. - -Yeah, but some don't come back. - -- Hey, Jocks! -- Hi, Jocks! - -You guys did great! - -You're monsters! -You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - -- I wonder where they were. -- I don't know. - -Their day's not planned. - -Outside the hive, flying who knows -where, doing who knows what. - -You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen -Jock. You have to be bred for that. - -Right. - -Look. That's more pollen -than you and I will see in a lifetime. - -It's just a status symbol. -Bees make too much of it. - -Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it -and the ladies see you wearing it. - -Those ladies? -Aren't they our cousins too? - -Distant. Distant. - -Look at these two. - -- Couple of Hive Harrys. -- Let's have fun with them. - -It must be dangerous -being a Pollen Jock. - -Yeah. Once a bear pinned me -against a mushroom! - -He had a paw on my throat, -and with the other, he was slapping me! - -- Oh, my! -- I never thought I'd knock him out. - -What were you doing during this? - -Trying to alert the authorities. - -I can autograph that. - -A little gusty out there today, -wasn't it, comrades? - -Yeah. Gusty. - -We're hitting a sunflower patch -six miles from here tomorrow. - -- Six miles, huh? -- Barry! - -A puddle jump for us, -but maybe you're not up for it. - -- Maybe I am. -- You are not! - -We're going 0900 at J-Gate. - -What do you think, buzzy-boy? -Are you bee enough? - -I might be. It all depends -on what 0900 means. - -Hey, Honex! - -Dad, you surprised me. - -You decide what you're interested in? - -- Well, there's a lot of choices. -- But you only get one. - -Do you ever get bored -doing the same job every day? - -Son, let me tell you about stirring. - -You grab that stick, and you just -move it around, and you stir it around. - -You get yourself into a rhythm. -It's a beautiful thing. - -You know, Dad, -the more I think about it, - -maybe the honey field -just isn't right for me. - -You were thinking of what, -making balloon animals? - -That's a bad job -for a guy with a stinger. - -Janet, your son's not sure -he wants to go into honey! - -- Barry, you are so funny sometimes. -- I'm not trying to be funny. - -You're not funny! You're going -into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - -- You're gonna be a stirrer? -- No one's listening to me! - -Wait till you see the sticks I have. - -I could say anything right now. -I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! - -Let's open some honey and celebrate! - -Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. -Shave my antennae. - -Shack up with a grasshopper. Get -a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! - -I'm so proud. - -- We're starting work today! -- Today's the day. - -Come on! All the good jobs -will be gone. - -Yeah, right. - -Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, -stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - -- Is it still available? -- Hang on. Two left! - -One of them's yours! Congratulations! -Step to the side. - -- What'd you get? -- Picking crud out. Stellar! - -Wow! - -Couple of newbies? - -Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! - -Make your choice. - -- You want to go first? -- No, you go. - -Oh, my. What's available? - -Restroom attendant's open, -not for the reason you think. - -- Any chance of getting the Krelman? -- Sure, you're on. - -I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. - -Wax monkey's always open. - -The Krelman opened up again. - -What happened? - -A bee died. Makes an opening. See? -He's dead. Another dead one. - -Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. - -Dead from the neck up. -Dead from the neck down. That's life! - -Oh, this is so hard! - -Heating, cooling, -stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, - -humming, inspector number seven, -lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, - -mite wrangler. Barry, what -do you think I should... Barry? - -Barry! - -All right, we've got the sunflower patch -in quadrant nine... - -What happened to you? -Where are you? - -- I'm going out. -- Out? Out where? - -- Out there. -- Oh, no! - -I have to, before I go -to work for the rest of my life. - -You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? - -Another call coming in. - -If anyone's feeling brave, -there's a Korean deli on 83rd - -that gets their roses today. - -Hey, guys. - -- Look at that. -- Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? - -Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. - -It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. - -Really? Feeling lucky, are you? - -Sign here, here. Just initial that. - -- Thank you. -- OK. - -You got a rain advisory today, - -and as you all know, -bees cannot fly in rain. - -So be careful. As always, -watch your brooms, - -hockey sticks, dogs, -birds, bears and bats. - -Also, I got a couple of reports -of root beer being poured on us. - -Murphy's in a home because of it, -babbling like a cicada! - -- That's awful. -- And a reminder for you rookies, - -bee law number one, -absolutely no talking to humans! - -All right, launch positions! - -Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, -buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! - -Black and yellow! - -Hello! - -You ready for this, hot shot? - -Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. - -Wind, check. - -- Antennae, check. -- Nectar pack, check. - -- Wings, check. -- Stinger, check. - -Scared out of my shorts, check. - -OK, ladies, - -let's move it out! - -Pound those petunias, -you striped stem-suckers! - -All of you, drain those flowers! - -Wow! I'm out! - -I can't believe I'm out! - -So blue. - -I feel so fast and free! - -Box kite! - -Wow! - -Flowers! - -This is Blue Leader. -We have roses visual. - -Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. - -Roses! - -30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. - -Stand to the side, kid. -It's got a bit of a kick. - -That is one nectar collector! - -- Ever see pollination up close? -- No, sir. - -I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it -over here. Maybe a dash over there, - -a pinch on that one. -See that? It's a little bit of magic. - -That's amazing. Why do we do that? - -That's pollen power. More pollen, more -flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. - -Cool. - -I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. -Could be daisies. Don't we need those? - -Copy that visual. - -Wait. One of these flowers -seems to be on the move. - -Say again? You're reporting -a moving flower? - -Affirmative. - -That was on the line! - -This is the coolest. What is it? - -I don't know, but I'm loving this color. - -It smells good. -Not like a flower, but I like it. - -Yeah, fuzzy. - -Chemical-y. - -Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. - -My sweet lord of bees! - -Candy-brain, get off there! - -Problem! - -- Guys! -- This could be bad. - -Affirmative. - -Very close. - -Gonna hurt. - -Mama's little boy. - -You are way out of position, rookie! - -Coming in at you like a missile! - -Help me! - -I don't think these are flowers. - -- Should we tell him? -- I think he knows. - -What is this?! - -Match point! - -You can start packing up, honey, -because you're about to eat it! - -Yowser! - -Gross. - -There's a bee in the car! - -- Do something! -- I'm driving! - -- Hi, bee. -- He's back here! - -He's going to sting me! - -Nobody move. If you don't move, -he won't sting you. Freeze! - -He blinked! - -Spray him, Granny! - -What are you doing?! - -Wow... the tension level -out here is unbelievable. - -I gotta get home. - -Can't fly in rain. - -Can't fly in rain. - -Can't fly in rain. - -Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! - -Ken, could you close -the window please? - -Ken, could you close -the window please? - -Check out my new resume. -I made it into a fold-out brochure. - -You see? Folds out. - -Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. - -What was that? - -Maybe this time. This time. This time. -This time! This time! This... - -Drapes! - -That is diabolical. - -It's fantastic. It's got all my special -skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. - -What's number one? Star Wars? - -Nah, I don't go for that... - -...kind of stuff. - -No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. -They're out of their minds. - -When I leave a job interview, they're -flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. - -There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. - -I don't remember the sun -having a big 75 on it. - -I predicted global warming. - -I could feel it getting hotter. -At first I thought it was just me. - -Wait! Stop! Bee! - -Stand back. These are winter boots. - -Wait! - -Don't kill him! - -You know I'm allergic to them! -This thing could kill me! - -Why does his life have -less value than yours? - -Why does his life have any less value -than mine? Is that your statement? - -I'm just saying all life has value. You -don't know what he's capable of feeling. - -My brochure! - -There you go, little guy. - -I'm not scared of him. -It's an allergic thing. - -Put that on your resume brochure. - -My whole face could puff up. - -Make it one of your special skills. - -Knocking someone out -is also a special skill. - -Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - -- Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? -- Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - -- You could put carob chips on there. -- Bye. - -- Supposed to be less calories. -- Bye. - -I gotta say something. - -She saved my life. -I gotta say something. - -All right, here it goes. - -Nah. - -What would I say? - -I could really get in trouble. - -It's a bee law. -You're not supposed to talk to a human. - -I can't believe I'm doing this. - -I've got to. - -Oh, I can't do it. Come on! - -No. Yes. No. - -Do it. I can't. - -How should I start it? -"You like jazz?" No, that's no good. - -Here she comes! Speak, you fool! - -Hi! - -I'm sorry. - -- You're talking. -- Yes, I know. - -You're talking! - -I'm so sorry. - -No, it's OK. It's fine. -I know I'm dreaming. - -But I don't recall going to bed. - -Well, I'm sure this -is very disconcerting. - -This is a bit of a surprise to me. -I mean, you're a bee! - -I am. And I'm not supposed -to be doing this, - -but they were all trying to kill me. - -And if it wasn't for you... - -I had to thank you. -It's just how I was raised. - -That was a little weird. - -- I'm talking with a bee. -- Yeah. - -I'm talking to a bee. -And the bee is talking to me! - -I just want to say I'm grateful. -I'll leave now. - -- Wait! How did you learn to do that? -- What? - -The talking thing. - -Same way you did, I guess. -"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - -- That's very funny. -- Yeah. - -Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, -we'd cry with what we have to deal with. - -Anyway... - -Can I... - -...get you something? -- Like what? - -I don't know. I mean... -I don't know. Coffee? - -I don't want to put you out. - -It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - -- It's just coffee. -- I hate to impose. - -- Don't be ridiculous! -- Actually, I would love a cup. - -Hey, you want rum cake? - -- I shouldn't. -- Have some. - -- No, I can't. -- Come on! - -I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - -- Where? -- These stripes don't help. - -You look great! - -I don't know if you know -anything about fashion. - -Are you all right? - -No. - -He's making the tie in the cab -as they're flying up Madison. - -He finally gets there. - -He runs up the steps into the church. -The wedding is on. - -And he says, "Watermelon? -I thought you said Guatemalan. - -Why would I marry a watermelon?" - -Is that a bee joke? - -That's the kind of stuff we do. - -Yeah, different. - -So, what are you gonna do, Barry? - -About work? I don't know. - -I want to do my part for the hive, -but I can't do it the way they want. - -I know how you feel. - -- You do? -- Sure. - -My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or -a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - -- Really? -- My only interest is flowers. - -Our new queen was just elected -with that same campaign slogan. - -Anyway, if you look... - -There's my hive right there. See it? - -You're in Sheep Meadow! - -Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! - -No way! I know that area. -I lost a toe ring there once. - -- Why do girls put rings on their toes? -- Why not? - -- It's like putting a hat on your knee. -- Maybe I'll try that. - -- You all right, ma'am? -- Oh, yeah. Fine. - -Just having two cups of coffee! - -Anyway, this has been great. -Thanks for the coffee. - -Yeah, it's no trouble. - -Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, -I'd be up the rest of my life. - -Are you...? - -Can I take a piece of this with me? - -Sure! Here, have a crumb. - -- Thanks! -- Yeah. - -All right. Well, then... -I guess I'll see you around. - -Or not. - -OK, Barry. - -And thank you -so much again... for before. - -Oh, that? That was nothing. - -Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... - -This can't possibly work. - -He's all set to go. -We may as well try it. - -OK, Dave, pull the chute. - -- Sounds amazing. -- It was amazing! - -It was the scariest, -happiest moment of my life. - -Humans! I can't believe -you were with humans! - -Giant, scary humans! -What were they like? - -Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. - -They eat crazy giant things. -They drive crazy. - -- Do they try and kill you, like on TV? -- Some of them. But some of them don't. - -- How'd you get back? -- Poodle. - -You did it, and I'm glad. You saw -whatever you wanted to see. - -You had your "experience." Now you -can pick out yourjob and be normal. - -- Well... -- Well? - -Well, I met someone. - -You did? Was she Bee-ish? - -- A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! -- No, no, no, not a wasp. - -- Spider? -- I'm not attracted to spiders. - -I know it's the hottest thing, -with the eight legs and all. - -I can't get by that face. - -So who is she? - -She's... human. - -No, no. That's a bee law. -You wouldn't break a bee law. - -- Her name's Vanessa. -- Oh, boy. - -She's so nice. And she's a florist! - -Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! - -We're not dating. - -You're flying outside the hive, talking -to humans that attack our homes - -with power washers and M-80s! -One-eighth a stick of dynamite! - -She saved my life! -And she understands me. - -This is over! - -Eat this. - -This is not over! What was that? - -- They call it a crumb. -- It was so stingin' stripey! - -And that's not what they eat. -That's what falls off what they eat! - -- You know what a Cinnabon is? -- No. - -It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. -They heat it up... - -Sit down! - -...really hot! -- Listen to me! - -We are not them! We're us. -There's us and there's them! - -Yes, but who can deny -the heart that is yearning? - -There's no yearning. -Stop yearning. Listen to me! - -You have got to start thinking bee, -my friend. Thinking bee! - -- Thinking bee. -- Thinking bee. - -Thinking bee! Thinking bee! -Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - -There he is. He's in the pool. - -You know what your problem is, Barry? - -I gotta start thinking bee? - -How much longer will this go on? - -It's been three days! -Why aren't you working? - -I've got a lot of big life decisions -to think about. - -What life? You have no life! -You have no job. You're barely a bee! - -Would it kill you -to make a little honey? - -Barry, come out. -Your father's talking to you. - -Martin, would you talk to him? - -Barry, I'm talking to you! - -You coming? - -Got everything? - -All set! - -Go ahead. I'll catch up. - -Don't be too long. - -Watch this! - -Vanessa! - -- We're still here. -- I told you not to yell at him. - -He doesn't respond to yelling! - -- Then why yell at me? -- Because you don't listen! - -I'm not listening to this. - -Sorry, I've gotta go. - -- Where are you going? -- I'm meeting a friend. - -A girl? Is this why you can't decide? - -Bye. - -I just hope she's Bee-ish. - -They have a huge parade -of flowers every year in Pasadena? - -To be in the Tournament of Roses, -that's every florist's dream! - -Up on a float, surrounded -by flowers, crowds cheering. - -A tournament. Do the roses -compete in athletic events? - -No. All right, I've got one. -How come you don't fly everywhere? - -It's exhausting. Why don't you -run everywhere? It's faster. - -Yeah, OK, I see, I see. -All right, your turn. - -TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? -That's insane! - -You don't have that? - -We have Hivo, but it's a disease. -It's a horrible, horrible disease. - -Oh, my. - -Dumb bees! - -You must want to sting all those jerks. - -We try not to sting. -It's usually fatal for us. - -So you have to watch your temper. - -Very carefully. -You kick a wall, take a walk, - -write an angry letter and throw it out. -Work through it like any emotion: - -Anger, jealousy, lust. - -Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? - -Yeah. - -- What is wrong with you?! -- It's a bug. - -He's not bothering anybody. -Get out of here, you creep! - -What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? - -Yeah, it was. How did you know? - -It felt like about 10 pages. -Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. - -You've really got that -down to a science. - -- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. -- I'll bet. - -What in the name -of Mighty Hercules is this? - -How did this get here? -Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, - -Ray Liotta Private Select? - -- Is he that actor? -- I never heard of him. - -- Why is this here? -- For people. We eat it. - -You don't have -enough food of your own? - -- Well, yes. -- How do you get it? - -- Bees make it. -- I know who makes it! - -And it's hard to make it! - -There's heating, cooling, stirring. -You need a whole Krelman thing! - -- It's organic. -- It's our-ganic! - -It's just honey, Barry. - -Just what?! - -Bees don't know about this! -This is stealing! A lot of stealing! - -You've taken our homes, schools, -hospitals! This is all we have! - -And it's on sale?! -I'm getting to the bottom of this. - -I'm getting to the bottom -of all of this! - -Hey, Hector. - -- You almost done? -- Almost. - -He is here. I sense it. - -Well, I guess I'll go home now - -and just leave this nice honey out, -with no one around. - -You're busted, box boy! - -I knew I heard something. -So you can talk! - -I can talk. -And now you'll start talking! - -Where you getting the sweet stuff? -Who's your supplier? - -I don't understand. -I thought we were friends. - -The last thing we want -to do is upset bees! - -You're too late! It's ours now! - -You, sir, have crossed -the wrong sword! - -You, sir, will be lunch -for my iguana, Ignacio! - -Where is the honey coming from? - -Tell me where! - -Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! - -Crazy person! - -What horrible thing has happened here? - -These faces, they never knew -what hit them. And now - -they're on the road to nowhere! - -Just keep still. - -What? You're not dead? - -Do I look dead? They will wipe anything -that moves. Where you headed? - -To Honey Farms. -I am onto something huge here. - -I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, -crazy stuff. Blows your head off! - -I'm going to Tacoma. - -- And you? -- He really is dead. - -All right. - -Uh-oh! - -- What is that?! -- Oh, no! - -- A wiper! Triple blade! -- Triple blade? - -Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! - -Why does everything have -to be so doggone clean?! - -How much do you people need to see?! - -Open your eyes! -Stick your head out the window! - -From NPR News in Washington, -I'm Carl Kasell. - -But don't kill no more bugs! - -- Bee! -- Moose blood guy!! - -- You hear something? -- Like what? - -Like tiny screaming. - -Turn off the radio. - -Whassup, bee boy? - -Hey, Blood. - -Just a row of honey jars, -as far as the eye could see. - -Wow! - -I assume wherever this truck goes -is where they're getting it. - -I mean, that honey's ours. - -- Bees hang tight. -- We're all jammed in. - -It's a close community. - -Not us, man. We on our own. -Every mosquito on his own. - -- What if you get in trouble? -- You a mosquito, you in trouble. - -Nobody likes us. They just smack. -See a mosquito, smack, smack! - -At least you're out in the world. -You must meet girls. - -Mosquito girls try to trade up, -get with a moth, dragonfly. - -Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. - -You got to be kidding me! - -Mooseblood's about to leave -the building! So long, bee! - -- Hey, guys! -- Mooseblood! - -I knew I'd catch y'all down here. -Did you bring your crazy straw? - -We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, -and it's pretty much pure profit. - -What is this place? - -A bee's got a brain -the size of a pinhead. - -They are pinheads! - -Pinhead. - -- Check out the new smoker. -- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. - -The Thomas 3000! - -Smoker? - -Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. -Twice the nicotine, all the tar. - -A couple breaths of this -knocks them right out. - -They make the honey, -and we make the money. - -"They make the honey, -and we make the money"? - -Oh, my! - -What's going on? Are you OK? - -Yeah. It doesn't last too long. - -Do you know you're -in a fake hive with fake walls? - -Our queen was moved here. -We had no choice. - -This is your queen? -That's a man in women's clothes! - -That's a drag queen! - -What is this? - -Oh, no! - -There's hundreds of them! - -Bee honey. - -Our honey is being brazenly stolen -on a massive scale! - -This is worse than anything bears -have done! I intend to do something. - -Oh, Barry, stop. - -Who told you humans are taking -our honey? That's a rumor. - -Do these look like rumors? - -That's a conspiracy theory. -These are obviously doctored photos. - -How did you get mixed up in this? - -He's been talking to humans. - -- What? -- Talking to humans?! - -He has a human girlfriend. -And they make out! - -Make out? Barry! - -We do not. - -- You wish you could. -- Whose side are you on? - -The bees! - -I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. -Those crazy legs kept me up all night. - -Barry, this is what you want -to do with your life? - -I want to do it for all our lives. -Nobody works harder than bees! - -Dad, I remember you -coming home so overworked - -your hands were still stirring. -You couldn't stop. - -I remember that. - -What right do they have to our honey? - -We live on two cups a year. They put it -in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! - -Even if it's true, what can one bee do? - -Sting them where it really hurts. - -In the face! The eye! - -- That would hurt. -- No. - -Up the nose? That's a killer. - -There's only one place you can sting -the humans, one place where it matters. - -Hive at Five, the hive's only -full-hour action news source. - -No more bee beards! - -With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. - -Weather with Storm Stinger. - -Sports with Buzz Larvi. - -And Jeanette Chung. - -- Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. -- And I'm Jeanette Chung. - -A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, - -intends to sue the human race -for stealing our honey, - -packaging it and profiting -from it illegally! - -Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, - -we'll have three former queens here in -our studio, discussing their new book, - -Classy Ladies, -out this week on Hexagon. - -Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. - -Did you ever think, "I'm a kid -from the hive. I can't do this"? - -Bees have never been afraid -to change the world. - -What about Bee Columbus? -Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? - -Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. - -We were thinking -of stickball or candy stores. - -How old are you? - -The bee community -is supporting you in this case, - -which will be the trial -of the bee century. - -You know, they have a Larry King -in the human world too. - -It's a common name. Next week... - -He looks like you and has a show -and suspenders and colored dots... - -Next week... - -Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the -guest even though you just heard 'em. - -Bear Week next week! -They're scary, hairy and here live. - -Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, -squinty eyes, very Jewish. - -In tennis, you attack -at the point of weakness! - -It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. - -Honey, her backhand's a joke! -I'm not gonna take advantage of that? - -Quiet, please. -Actual work going on here. - -- Is that that same bee? -- Yes, it is! - -I'm helping him sue the human race. - -- Hello. -- Hello, bee. - -This is Ken. - -Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size -ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. - -Why does he talk again? - -Listen, you better go -'cause we're really busy working. - -But it's our yogurt night! - -Bye-bye. - -Why is yogurt night so difficult?! - -You poor thing. -You two have been at this for hours! - -Yes, and Adam here -has been a huge help. - -- Frosting... -- How many sugars? - -Just one. I try not -to use the competition. - -So why are you helping me? - -Bees have good qualities. - -And it takes my mind off the shop. - -Instead of flowers, people -are giving balloon bouquets now. - -Those are great, if you're three. - -And artificial flowers. - -- Oh, those just get me psychotic! -- Yeah, me too. - -Bent stingers, pointless pollination. - -Bees must hate those fake things! - -Nothing worse -than a daffodil that's had work done. - -Maybe this could make up -for it a little bit. - -- This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. -- I guess. - -You sure you want to go through with it? - -Am I sure? When I'm done with -the humans, they won't be able - -to say, "Honey, I'm home," -without paying a royalty! - -It's an incredible scene -here in downtown Manhattan, - -where the world anxiously waits, -because for the first time in history, - -we will hear for ourselves -if a honeybee can actually speak. - -What have we gotten into here, Barry? - -It's pretty big, isn't it? - -I can't believe how many humans -don't work during the day. - -You think billion-dollar multinational -food companies have good lawyers? - -Everybody needs to stay -behind the barricade. - -- What's the matter? -- I don't know, I just got a chill. - -Well, if it isn't the bee team. - -You boys work on this? - -All rise! The Honorable -Judge Bumbleton presiding. - -All right. Case number 4475, - -Superior Court of New York, -Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry - -is now in session. - -Mr. Montgomery, you're representing -the five food companies collectively? - -A privilege. - -Mr. Benson... you're representing -all the bees of the world? - -I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, -we're ready to proceed. - -Mr. Montgomery, -your opening statement, please. - -Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, - -my grandmother was a simple woman. - -Born on a farm, she believed -it was man's divine right - -to benefit from the bounty -of nature God put before us. - -If we lived in the topsy-turvy world -Mr. Benson imagines, - -just think of what would it mean. - -I would have to negotiate -with the silkworm - -for the elastic in my britches! - -Talking bee! - -How do we know this isn't some sort of - -holographic motion-picture-capture -Hollywood wizardry? - -They could be using laser beams! - -Robotics! Ventriloquism! -Cloning! For all we know, - -he could be on steroids! - -Mr. Benson? - -Ladies and gentlemen, -there's no trickery here. - -I'm just an ordinary bee. -Honey's pretty important to me. - -It's important to all bees. -We invented it! - -We make it. And we protect it -with our lives. - -Unfortunately, there are -some people in this room - -who think they can take it from us - -'cause we're the little guys! -I'm hoping that, after this is all over, - -you'll see how, by taking our honey, -you not only take everything we have - -but everything we are! - -I wish he'd dress like that -all the time. So nice! - -Call your first witness. - -So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden -of Honey Farms, big company you have. - -I suppose so. - -I see you also own -Honeyburton and Honron! - -Yes, they provide beekeepers -for our farms. - -Beekeeper. I find that -to be a very disturbing term. - -I don't imagine you employ -any bee-free-ers, do you? - -- No. -- I couldn't hear you. - -- No. -- No. - -Because you don't free bees. -You keep bees. Not only that, - -it seems you thought a bear would be -an appropriate image for a jar of honey. - -They're very lovable creatures. - -Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. - -You mean like this? - -Bears kill bees! - -How'd you like his head crashing -through your living room?! - -Biting into your couch! -Spitting out your throw pillows! - -OK, that's enough. Take him away. - -So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. -Your name intrigues me. - -- Where have I heard it before? -- I was with a band called The Police. - -But you've never been -a police officer, have you? - -No, I haven't. - -No, you haven't. And so here -we have yet another example - -of bee culture casually -stolen by a human - -for nothing more than -a prance-about stage name. - -Oh, please. - -Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? - -Because I'm feeling -a little stung, Sting. - -Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! - -That's not his real name?! You idiots! - -Mr. Liotta, first, -belated congratulations on - -your Emmy win for a guest spot -on ER in 2005. - -Thank you. Thank you. - -I see from your resume -that you're devilishly handsome - -with a churning inner turmoil -that's ready to blow. - -I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? - -Not yet it isn't. But is this -what it's come to for you? - -Exploiting tiny, helpless bees -so you don't - -have to rehearse -your part and learn your lines, sir? - -Watch it, Benson! -I could blow right now! - -This isn't a goodfella. -This is a badfella! - -Why doesn't someone just step on -this creep, and we can all go home?! - -- Order in this court! -- You're all thinking it! - -Order! Order, I say! - -- Say it! -- Mr. Liotta, please sit down! - -I think it was awfully nice -of that bear to pitch in like that. - -I think the jury's on our side. - -Are we doing everything right, legally? - -I'm a florist. - -Right. Well, here's to a great team. - -To a great team! - -Well, hello. - -- Ken! -- Hello. - -I didn't think you were coming. - -No, I was just late. -I tried to call, but... the battery. - -I didn't want all this to go to waste, -so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. - -Oh, that was lucky. - -There's a little left. -I could heat it up. - -Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. - -So I hear you're quite a tennis player. - -I'm not much for the game myself. -The ball's a little grabby. - -That's where I usually sit. -Right... there. - -Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, - -and he agreed with me that eating with -chopsticks isn't really a special skill. - -You think I don't see what you're doing? - -I know how hard it is to find -the rightjob. We have that in common. - -Do we? - -Bees have 100 percent employment, -but we do jobs like taking the crud out. - -That's just what -I was thinking about doing. - -Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor -for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. - -I'm going to drain the old stinger. - -Yeah, you do that. - -Look at that. - -You know, I've just about had it - -with your little mind games. - -- What's that? -- Italian Vogue. - -Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. - -A lot of ads. - -Remember what Van said, why is -your life more valuable than mine? - -Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! - -I think something stinks in here! - -I love the smell of flowers. - -How do you like the smell of flames?! - -Not as much. - -Water bug! Not taking sides! - -Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! -This is pathetic! - -I've got issues! - -Well, well, well, a royal flush! - -- You're bluffing. -- Am I? - -Surf's up, dude! - -Poo water! - -That bowl is gnarly. - -Except for those dirty yellow rings! - -Kenneth! What are you doing?! - -You know, I don't even like honey! -I don't eat it! - -We need to talk! - -He's just a little bee! - -And he happens to be -the nicest bee I've met in a long time! - -Long time? What are you talking about?! -Are there other bugs in your life? - -No, but there are other things bugging -me in life. And you're one of them! - -Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... - -My nerves are fried from riding -on this emotional roller coaster! - -Goodbye, Ken. - -And for your information, - -I prefer sugar-free, artificial -sweeteners made by man! - -I'm sorry about all that. - -I know it's got -an aftertaste! I like it! - -I always felt there was some kind -of barrier between Ken and me. - -I couldn't overcome it. -Oh, well. - -Are you OK for the trial? - -I believe Mr. Montgomery -is about out of ideas. - -We would like to call -Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. - -Good idea! You can really see why he's -considered one of the best lawyers... - -Yeah. - -Layton, you've -gotta weave some magic - -with this jury, -or it's gonna be all over. - -Don't worry. The only thing I have -to do to turn this jury around - -is to remind them -of what they don't like about bees. - -- You got the tweezers? -- Are you allergic? - -Only to losing, son. Only to losing. - -Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you -what I think we'd all like to know. - -What exactly is your relationship - -to that woman? - -We're friends. - -- Good friends? -- Yes. - -How good? Do you live together? - -Wait a minute... - -Are you her little... - -...bedbug? - -I've seen a bee documentary or two. -From what I understand, - -doesn't your queen give birth -to all the bee children? - -- Yeah, but... -- So those aren't your real parents! - -- Oh, Barry... -- Yes, they are! - -Hold me back! - -You're an illegitimate bee, -aren't you, Benson? - -He's denouncing bees! - -Don't y'all date your cousins? - -- Objection! -- I'm going to pincushion this guy! - -Adam, don't! It's what he wants! - -Oh, I'm hit!! - -Oh, lordy, I am hit! - -Order! Order! - -The venom! The venom -is coursing through my veins! - -I have been felled -by a winged beast of destruction! - -You see? You can't treat them -like equals! They're striped savages! - -Stinging's the only thing -they know! It's their way! - -- Adam, stay with me. -- I can't feel my legs. - -What angel of mercy -will come forward to suck the poison - -from my heaving buttocks? - -I will have order in this court. Order! - -Order, please! - -The case of the honeybees -versus the human race - -took a pointed turn against the bees - -yesterday when one of their legal -team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - -- Hey, buddy. -- Hey. - -- Is there much pain? -- Yeah. - -I... - -I blew the whole case, didn't I? - -It doesn't matter. What matters is -you're alive. You could have died. - -I'd be better off dead. Look at me. - -They got it from the cafeteria -downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. - -Look, there's -a little celery still on it. - -What was it like to sting someone? - -I can't explain it. It was all... - -All adrenaline and then... -and then ecstasy! - -All right. - -You think it was all a trap? - -Of course. I'm sorry. -I flew us right into this. - -What were we thinking? Look at us. We're -just a couple of bugs in this world. - -What will the humans do to us -if they win? - -I don't know. - -I hear they put the roaches in motels. -That doesn't sound so bad. - -Adam, they check in, -but they don't check out! - -Oh, my. - -Could you get a nurse -to close that window? - -- Why? -- The smoke. - -Bees don't smoke. - -Right. Bees don't smoke. - -Bees don't smoke! -But some bees are smoking. - -That's it! That's our case! - -It is? It's not over? - -Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. - -Get back to the court and stall. -Stall any way you can. - -And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. - -Mr. Flayman. - -Yes? Yes, Your Honor! - -Where is the rest of your team? - -Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. - -Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, - -and as a result, -we don't make very good time. - -I actually heard a funny story about... - -Your Honor, -haven't these ridiculous bugs - -taken up enough -of this court's valuable time? - -How much longer will we allow -these absurd shenanigans to go on? - -They have presented no compelling -evidence to support their charges - -against my clients, -who run legitimate businesses. - -I move for a complete dismissal -of this entire case! - -Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going - -to have to consider -Mr. Montgomery's motion. - -But you can't! We have a terrific case. - -Where is your proof? -Where is the evidence? - -Show me the smoking gun! - -Hold it, Your Honor! -You want a smoking gun? - -Here is your smoking gun. - -What is that? - -It's a bee smoker! - -What, this? -This harmless little contraption? - -This couldn't hurt a fly, -let alone a bee. - -Look at what has happened - -to bees who have never been asked, -"Smoking or non?" - -Is this what nature intended for us? - -To be forcibly addicted -to smoke machines - -and man-made wooden slat work camps? - -Living out our lives as honey slaves -to the white man? - -- What are we gonna do? -- He's playing the species card. - -Ladies and gentlemen, please, -free these bees! - -Free the bees! Free the bees! - -Free the bees! - -Free the bees! Free the bees! - -The court finds in favor of the bees! - -Vanessa, we won! - -I knew you could do it! High-five! - -Sorry. - -I'm OK! You know what this means? - -All the honey -will finally belong to the bees. - -Now we won't have -to work so hard all the time. - -This is an unholy perversion -of the balance of nature, Benson. - -You'll regret this. - -Barry, how much honey is out there? - -All right. One at a time. - -Barry, who are you wearing? - -My sweater is Ralph Lauren, -and I have no pants. - -- What if Montgomery's right? -- What do you mean? - -We've been living the bee way -a long time, 27 million years. - -Congratulations on your victory. -What will you demand as a settlement? - -First, we'll demand a complete shutdown -of all bee work camps. - -Then we want back the honey -that was ours to begin with, - -every last drop. - -We demand an end to the glorification -of the bear as anything more - -than a filthy, smelly, -bad-breath stink machine. - -We're all aware -of what they do in the woods. - -Wait for my signal. - -Take him out. - -He'll have nauseous -for a few hours, then he'll be fine. - -And we will no longer tolerate -bee-negative nicknames... - -But it's just a prance-about stage name! - -...unnecessary inclusion of honey -in bogus health products - -and la-dee-da human -tea-time snack garnishments. - -Can't breathe. - -Bring it in, boys! - -Hold it right there! Good. - -Tap it. - -Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, -and there's gallons more coming! - -- I think we need to shut down! -- Shut down? We've never shut down. - -Shut down honey production! - -Stop making honey! - -Turn your key, sir! - -What do we do now? - -Cannonball! - -We're shutting honey production! - -Mission abort. - -Aborting pollination and nectar detail. -Returning to base. - -Adam, you wouldn't believe -how much honey was out there. - -Oh, yeah? - -What's going on? Where is everybody? - -- Are they out celebrating? -- They're home. - -They don't know what to do. -Laying out, sleeping in. - -I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way -to San Antonio with a cricket. - -At least we got our honey back. - -Sometimes I think, so what if humans -liked our honey? Who wouldn't? - -It's the greatest thing in the world! -I was excited to be part of making it. - -This was my new desk. This was my -new job. I wanted to do it really well. - -And now... - -Now I can't. - -I don't understand -why they're not happy. - -I thought their lives would be better! - -They're doing nothing. It's amazing. -Honey really changes people. - -You don't have any idea -what's going on, do you? - -- What did you want to show me? -- This. - -What happened here? - -That is not the half of it. - -Oh, no. Oh, my. - -They're all wilting. - -Doesn't look very good, does it? - -No. - -And whose fault do you think that is? - -You know, I'm gonna guess bees. - -Bees? - -Specifically, me. - -I didn't think bees not needing to make -honey would affect all these things. - -It's notjust flowers. -Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. - -That's our whole SAT test right there. - -Take away produce, that affects -the entire animal kingdom. - -And then, of course... - -The human species? - -So if there's no more pollination, - -it could all just go south here, -couldn't it? - -I know this is also partly my fault. - -How about a suicide pact? - -How do we do it? - -- I'll sting you, you step on me. -- Thatjust kills you twice. - -Right, right. - -Listen, Barry... -sorry, but I gotta get going. - -I had to open my mouth and talk. - -Vanessa? - -Vanessa? Why are you leaving? -Where are you going? - -To the final Tournament of Roses parade -in Pasadena. - -They've moved it to this weekend -because all the flowers are dying. - -It's the last chance -I'll ever have to see it. - -Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. -I never meant it to turn out like this. - -I know. Me neither. - -Tournament of Roses. -Roses can't do sports. - -Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? - -Roses! - -Vanessa! - -Roses?! - -Barry? - -- Roses are flowers! -- Yes, they are. - -Flowers, bees, pollen! - -I know. -That's why this is the last parade. - -Maybe not. -Could you ask him to slow down? - -Could you slow down? - -Barry! - -OK, I made a huge mistake. -This is a total disaster, all my fault. - -Yes, it kind of is. - -I've ruined the planet. -I wanted to help you - -with the flower shop. -I've made it worse. - -Actually, it's completely closed down. - -I thought maybe you were remodeling. - -But I have another idea, and it's -greater than my previous ideas combined. - -I don't want to hear it! - -All right, they have the roses, -the roses have the pollen. - -I know every bee, plant -and flower bud in this park. - -All we gotta do is get what they've got -back here with what we've got. - -- Bees. -- Park. - -- Pollen! -- Flowers. - -- Repollination! -- Across the nation! - -Tournament of Roses, -Pasadena, California. - -They've got nothing -but flowers, floats and cotton candy. - -Security will be tight. - -I have an idea. - -Vanessa Bloome, FTD. - -Official floral business. It's real. - -Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. - -Thank you. It was a gift. - -Once inside, -we just pick the right float. - -How about The Princess and the Pea? - -I could be the princess, -and you could be the pea! - -Yes, I got it. - -- Where should I sit? -- What are you? - -- I believe I'm the pea. -- The pea? - -It goes under the mattresses. - -- Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. -- I'm getting the marshal. - -You do that! -This whole parade is a fiasco! - -Let's see what this baby'll do. - -Hey, what are you doing?! - -Then all we do -is blend in with traffic... - -...without arousing suspicion. - -Once at the airport, -there's no stopping us. - -Stop! Security. - -- You and your insect pack your float? -- Yes. - -Has it been -in your possession the entire time? - -Would you remove your shoes? - -- Remove your stinger. -- It's part of me. - -I know. Just having some fun. -Enjoy your flight. - -Then if we're lucky, we'll have -just enough pollen to do the job. - -Can you believe how lucky we are? We -have just enough pollen to do the job! - -I think this is gonna work. - -It's got to work. - -Attention, passengers, -this is Captain Scott. - -We have a bit of bad weather -in New York. - -It looks like we'll experience -a couple hours delay. - -Barry, these are cut flowers -with no water. They'll never make it. - -I gotta get up there -and talk to them. - -Be careful. - -Can I get help -with the Sky Mall magazine? - -I'd like to order the talking -inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. - -Captain, I'm in a real situation. - -- What'd you say, Hal? -- Nothing. - -Bee! - -Don't freak out! My entire species... - -What are you doing? - -- Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! -- Who's an attorney? - -Don't move. - -Oh, Barry. - -Good afternoon, passengers. -This is your captain. - -Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B -please report to the cockpit? - -And please hurry! - -What happened here? - -There was a DustBuster, -a toupee, a life raft exploded. - -One's bald, one's in a boat, -they're both unconscious! - -- Is that another bee joke? -- No! - -No one's flying the plane! - -This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. -What's your status? - -This is Vanessa Bloome. -I'm a florist from New York. - -Where's the pilot? - -He's unconscious, -and so is the copilot. - -Not good. Does anyone onboard -have flight experience? - -As a matter of fact, there is. - -- Who's that? -- Barry Benson. - -From the honey trial?! Oh, great. - -Vanessa, this is nothing more -than a big metal bee. - -It's got giant wings, huge engines. - -I can't fly a plane. - -- Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? -- Yes. - -How hard could it be? - -Wait, Barry! -We're headed into some lightning. - -This is Bob Bumble. We have some -late-breaking news from JFK Airport, - -where a suspenseful scene -is developing. - -Barry Benson, -fresh from his legal victory... - -That's Barry! - -...is attempting to land a plane, -loaded with people, flowers - -and an incapacitated flight crew. - -Flowers?! - -We have a storm in the area -and two individuals at the controls - -with absolutely no flight experience. - -Just a minute. -There's a bee on that plane. - -I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson -and his no-account compadres. - -They've done enough damage. - -But isn't he your only hope? - -Technically, a bee -shouldn't be able to fly at all. - -Their wings are too small... - -Haven't we heard this a million times? - -"The surface area of the wings -and body mass make no sense." - -- Get this on the air! -- Got it. - -- Stand by. -- We're going live. - -The way we work may be a mystery to you. - -Making honey takes a lot of bees -doing a lot of small jobs. - -But let me tell you about a small job. - -If you do it well, -it makes a big difference. - -More than we realized. -To us, to everyone. - -That's why I want to get bees -back to working together. - -That's the bee way! -We're not made of Jell-O. - -We get behind a fellow. - -- Black and yellow! -- Hello! - -Left, right, down, hover. - -- Hover? -- Forget hover. - -This isn't so hard. -Beep-beep! Beep-beep! - -Barry, what happened?! - -Wait, I think we were -on autopilot the whole time. - -- That may have been helping me. -- And now we're not! - -So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. - -All of you, let's get -behind this fellow! Move it out! - -Move out! - -Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, -you copy me with the wings of the plane! - -Don't have to yell. - -I'm not yelling! -We're in a lot of trouble. - -It's very hard to concentrate -with that panicky tone in your voice! - -It's not a tone. I'm panicking! - -I can't do this! - -Vanessa, pull yourself together. -You have to snap out of it! - -You snap out of it. - -You snap out of it. - -- You snap out of it! -- You snap out of it! - -- You snap out of it! -- You snap out of it! - -- You snap out of it! -- You snap out of it! - -- Hold it! -- Why? Come on, it's my turn. - -How is the plane flying? - -I don't know. - -Hello? - -Benson, got any flowers -for a happy occasion in there? - -The Pollen Jocks! - -They do get behind a fellow. - -- Black and yellow. -- Hello. - -All right, let's drop this tin can -on the blacktop. - -Where? I can't see anything. Can you? - -No, nothing. It's all cloudy. - -Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. - -- Thinking bee. -- Thinking bee. - -Thinking bee! -Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - -Wait a minute. -I think I'm feeling something. - -- What? -- I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. - -Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. - -Bring the nose down. - -Thinking bee! -Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - -- What in the world is on the tarmac? -- Get some lights on that! - -Thinking bee! -Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - -- Vanessa, aim for the flower. -- OK. - -Cut the engines. We're going in -on bee power. Ready, boys? - -Affirmative! - -Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. - -Land on that flower! - -Ready? Full reverse! - -Spin it around! - -- Not that flower! The other one! -- Which one? - -- That flower. -- I'm aiming at the flower! - -That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. -I mean the giant pulsating flower - -made of millions of bees! - -Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. - -Rotate around it. - -- This is insane, Barry! -- This's the only way I know how to fly. - -Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane -flying in an insect-like pattern? - -Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. -Smell it. Full reverse! - -Just drop it. Be a part of it. - -Aim for the center! - -Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! - -Come on, already. - -Barry, we did it! -You taught me how to fly! - -- Yes. No high-five! -- Right. - -Barry, it worked! -Did you see the giant flower? - -What giant flower? Where? Of course -I saw the flower! That was genius! - -- Thank you. -- But we're not done yet. - -Listen, everyone! - -This runway is covered -with the last pollen - -from the last flowers -available anywhere on Earth. - -That means this is our last chance. - -We're the only ones who make honey, -pollinate flowers and dress like this. - -If we're gonna survive as a species, -this is our moment! What do you say? - -Are we going to be bees, orjust -Museum of Natural History keychains? - -We're bees! - -Keychain! - -Then follow me! Except Keychain. - -Hold on, Barry. Here. - -You've earned this. - -Yeah! - -I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect -fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. - -Oh, yeah. - -That's our Barry. - -Mom! The bees are back! - -If anybody needs -to make a call, now's the time. - -I got a feeling we'll be -working late tonight! - -Here's your change. Have a great -afternoon! Can I help who's next? - -Would you like some honey with that? -It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. - -Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. -And I don't see a nickel! - -Sometimes I just feel -like a piece of meat! - -I had no idea. - -Barry, I'm sorry. -Have you got a moment? - -Would you excuse me? -My mosquito associate will help you. - -Sorry I'm late. - -He's a lawyer too? - -I was already a blood-sucking parasite. -All I needed was a briefcase. - -Have a great afternoon! - -Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, -and I can't get them anywhere. - -No problem, Vannie. -Just leave it to me. - -You're a lifesaver, Barry. -Can I help who's next? - -All right, scramble, jocks! -It's time to fly. - -Thank you, Barry! - -That bee is living my life! - -Let it go, Kenny. - -- When will this nightmare end?! -- Let it all go. - -- Beautiful day to fly. -- Sure is. - -Between you and me, -I was dying to get out of that office. - -You have got -to start thinking bee, my friend. - -- Thinking bee! -- Me? - -Hold it. Let's just stop -for a second. Hold it. - -I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. -Can we stop here? - -I'm not making a major life decision -during a production number! - -All right. Take ten, everybody. -Wrap it up, guys. - -I had virtually no rehearsal for that. diff --git a/gatsby.txt b/gatsby.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 614ffc5..0000000 --- a/gatsby.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6333 +0,0 @@ -Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her; - If you can bounce high, bounce for her too, -Till she cry "Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover, - I must have you!" - - --THOMAS PARKE D'INVILLIERS - - - - - -Chapter 1 - - - -In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice -that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. - -"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one," he told me, "just -remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages -that you've had." - -He didn't say any more but we've always been unusually communicative -in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more -than that. In consequence I'm inclined to reserve all judgments, -a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also -made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind -is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it -appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I -was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the -secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were -unsought--frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile -levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate -revelation was quivering on the horizon--for the intimate revelations -of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are -usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving -judgments is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of -missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, -and I snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is -parcelled out unequally at birth. - -And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission -that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet -marshes but after a certain point I don't care what it's founded on. -When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the -world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I -wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the -human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was -exempt from my reaction--Gatsby who represented everything for which I -have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of -successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some -heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related -to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten -thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that -flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the -"creative temperament"--it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic -readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it -is not likely I shall ever find again. No--Gatsby turned out all right -at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the -wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the -abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men. - - -My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western -city for three generations. The Carraways are something of a clan and we -have a tradition that we're descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the -actual founder of my line was my grandfather's brother who came here in -fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale -hardware business that my father carries on today. - -I never saw this great-uncle but I'm supposed to look like him--with -special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in -Father's office. I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a -century after my father, and a little later I participated in that -delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the -counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being -the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the -ragged edge of the universe--so I decided to go east and learn the bond -business. Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it -could support one more single man. All my aunts and uncles talked it -over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, -"Why--ye-es" with very grave, hesitant faces. Father agreed to finance -me for a year and after various delays I came east, permanently, I -thought, in the spring of twenty-two. - -The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm -season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, -so when a young man at the office suggested that we take a house -together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea. He found -the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but -at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went out -to the country alone. I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days -until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed -and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the -electric stove. - -It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently -arrived than I, stopped me on the road. - -"How do you get to West Egg village?" he asked helplessly. - -I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a -pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the -freedom of the neighborhood. - -And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the -trees--just as things grow in fast movies--I had that familiar -conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. - -There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be -pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. I bought a dozen -volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood -on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to -unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas -knew. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. -I was rather literary in college--one year I wrote a series of very -solemn and obvious editorials for the "Yale News"--and now I was going -to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most -limited of all specialists, the "well-rounded man." This isn't just an -epigram--life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, -after all. - -It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of -the strangest communities in North America. It was on that slender -riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where -there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of -land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in -contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most -domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great -wet barnyard of Long Island Sound. They are not perfect ovals--like the -egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact -end--but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetual -confusion to the gulls that fly overhead. To the wingless a more -arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except -shape and size. - -I lived at West Egg, the--well, the less fashionable of the two, though -this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little -sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the -egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge -places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on -my right was a colossal affair by any standard--it was a factual -imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, -spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool -and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby's mansion. -Or rather, as I didn't know Mr. Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by -a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a -small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the -water, a partial view of my neighbor's lawn, and the consoling -proximity of millionaires--all for eighty dollars a month. - -Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg -glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins -on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom -Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I'd known Tom -in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in -Chicago. - -Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of -the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven--a -national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute -limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of -anti-climax. His family were enormously wealthy--even in college his -freedom with money was a matter for reproach--but now he'd left Chicago -and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for -instance he'd brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. -It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy -enough to do that. - -Why they came east I don't know. They had spent a year in France, for no -particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever -people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, -said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn't believe it--I had no sight -into Daisy's heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking -a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable -football game. - -And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East -Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house was -even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red and white Georgian -Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beach -and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over -sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens--finally when it reached -the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the -momentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows, -glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy -afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his -legs apart on the front porch. - -He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy, straw haired -man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. -Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and -gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not -even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous -power of that body--he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he -strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle -shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body -capable of enormous leverage--a cruel body. - -His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of -fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt in -it, even toward people he liked--and there were men at New Haven who had -hated his guts. - -"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 approved of me and wanted me to like -him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own. - -We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch. - -"I've got a nice place here," he said, his eyes flashing about -restlessly. - -Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the -front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half -acre of deep pungent roses and a snub-nosed motor boat that bumped -the tide off shore. - -"It belonged to Demaine the oil man." He turned me around again, -politely and abruptly. "We'll go inside." - -We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, -fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. -The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass -outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze -blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other -like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of -the ceiling--and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a -shadow on it as wind does on the sea. - -The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch -on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored -balloon. They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and -fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight -around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the -whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. -Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught -wind died out about the room and the curtains and the rugs and the two -young women ballooned slowly to the floor. - -The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was extended full length -at her end of the divan, completely motionless and with her chin raised -a little as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely -to fall. If she saw me out of the corner of her eyes she gave no hint of -it--indeed, I was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having -disturbed her by coming in. - -The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise--she leaned slightly -forward with a conscientious expression--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, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand -for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one -in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had. -She hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker. -(I've heard it said that Daisy's murmur was only to make people -lean toward her; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.) - -At any rate Miss Baker's lips fluttered, she nodded at me almost -imperceptibly and then quickly tipped her head back again--the object -she was balancing had obviously tottered a little and given her something -of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to my lips. Almost any -exhibition of complete self sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me. - -I looked back at my cousin who began to ask me questions in her low, -thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and -down as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be -played again. Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, -bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth--but there was an excitement -in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: -a singing compulsion, a whispered "Listen," a promise that she had done -gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, -exciting things hovering in the next hour. - -I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way east -and how a dozen people had sent their love through me. - -"Do they miss me?" she cried ecstatically. - -"The whole town is desolate. All the cars have the left rear wheel -painted black as a mourning wreath and there's a persistent wail all -night along the North Shore." - -"How gorgeous! Let's go back, Tom. Tomorrow!" Then she added -irrelevantly, "You ought to see the baby." - -"I'd like to." - -"She's asleep. She's two years old. Haven't you ever seen her?" - -"Never." - -"Well, you ought to see her. She's----" - -Tom Buchanan who had been hovering restlessly about the room stopped -and rested his hand on my shoulder. - -"What you doing, 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, as if he were alert for something more. -"I'd be a God Damned fool to live anywhere else." - -At this point Miss Baker said "Absolutely!" with such suddenness that I -started--it was the first word she uttered since I came into the room. -Evidently it surprised her as much as it did me, for she yawned and -with a series of rapid, deft movements stood up into the room. - -"I'm stiff," she complained, "I've been lying on that sofa for as long -as I can remember." - -"Don't look at me," Daisy retorted. "I've been trying to get you to New -York all afternoon." - -"No, thanks," said Miss Baker to the four cocktails just in from the -pantry, "I'm absolutely in training." - -Her host looked at her incredulously. - -"You are!" He took down his drink as if it were a drop in the bottom of -a glass. "How you ever get anything done is beyond me." - -I looked at Miss Baker wondering what it was she "got done." I enjoyed -looking at her. She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect -carriage which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the -shoulders like a young cadet. Her grey sun-strained eyes looked back at -me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming discontented -face. 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----" - -"You must know Gatsby." - -"Gatsby?" demanded Daisy. "What Gatsby?" - -Before I could reply that he was my neighbor dinner was announced; -wedging his tense arm imperatively under mine Tom Buchanan compelled -me from the room as though he were moving a checker to another square. - -Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips the two -young women preceded us out onto a rosy-colored porch open toward the -sunset where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished -wind. - -"Why CANDLES?" objected Daisy, frowning. She snapped them out with her -fingers. "In two weeks it'll be the longest day in the year." -She looked at us all radiantly. "Do you always watch for the longest day -of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the -year and then miss it." - -"We ought to plan something," yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the -table as if she were getting into bed. - -"All right," said Daisy. "What'll we plan?" She turned to me helplessly. -"What do people plan?" - -Before I could answer her eyes fastened with an awed expression on her -little finger. - -"Look!" she complained. "I hurt it." - -We all looked--the knuckle was black and blue. - -"You did it, Tom," she said accusingly. "I know you didn't mean to -but you DID do it. That's what I get for marrying a brute of a man, -a great big hulking physical specimen of a----" - -"I hate that word hulking," objected Tom crossly, "even in kidding." - -"Hulking," insisted Daisy. - -Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a -bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool -as their white dresses and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all -desire. They were here--and they accepted Tom and me, making only a -polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. They knew -that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too -would be over and casually put away. It was sharply different from the -West where an evening was hurried from phase to phase toward its -close in a continually disappointed anticipation or else in sheer -nervous dread of the moment itself. - -"You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy," I confessed on my second glass -of corky but rather impressive claret. "Can't you talk about crops or -something?" - -I meant nothing in particular by this remark but it was taken up in an -unexpected way. - -"Civilization's going to pieces," broke out Tom violently. -"I've gotten to be a terrible pessimist about things. Have you read -'The Rise of the Coloured Empires' by this man Goddard?" - -"Why, no," I answered, rather surprised by his tone. - -"Well, it's a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if -we don't look out the white race will be--will be utterly submerged. -It's all scientific stuff; it's been proved." - -"Tom's getting very profound," said Daisy with an expression of -unthoughtful sadness. "He reads deep books with long words in them. -What was that word we----" - -"Well, these books are all scientific," insisted Tom, glancing at her -impatiently. "This fellow has worked out the whole thing. It's up to us -who are the dominant race to watch out or these other races will have -control of things." - -"We've got to beat them down," whispered Daisy, winking ferociously -toward the fervent sun. - -"You ought to live in California--" began Miss Baker but Tom -interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair. - -"This idea is that we're Nordics. I am, and you are and you are -and----" After an infinitesimal hesitation he included Daisy with a -slight nod and she winked at me again. "--and we've produced all the -things that go to make civilization--oh, science and art and all that. -Do you see?" - -There was something pathetic in his concentration as if his complacency, -more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more. When, almost -immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy -seized upon the momentary interruption and leaned toward me. - -"I'll tell you a family secret," she whispered enthusiastically. "It's -about the butler's nose. Do you want to hear about the butler's nose?" - -"That's why I came over tonight." - -"Well, he wasn't always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for -some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. -He had to polish it from morning till night until finally it began to -affect his nose----" - -"Things went from bad to worse," suggested Miss Baker. - -"Yes. Things went from bad to worse until finally he had to give up -his position." - -For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon -her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as -I listened--then the glow faded, each light deserting her with -lingering regret like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk. - -The butler came back and murmured something close to Tom's ear -whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair and without a word went -inside. As if his absence quickened something within her Daisy leaned -forward again, her voice glowing and singing. - -"I love to see you at my table, Nick. You remind me of a--of a rose, an -absolute rose. Doesn't he?" She turned to Miss Baker for confirmation. -"An absolute rose?" - -This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only -extemporizing but a stirring warmth flowed from her as if her -heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those -breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the -table and excused herself and went into the house. - -Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of -meaning. I was about to speak when she sat up alertly and said "Sh!" in -a warning voice. A subdued impassioned murmur was audible in the room -beyond and Miss Baker leaned forward, unashamed, trying to hear. The -murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted -excitedly, and then ceased altogether. - -"This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbor----" I said. - -"Don't talk. I want to hear what happens." - -"Is something happening?" I inquired innocently. - -"You mean to say you don't know?" said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. -"I thought everybody knew." - -"I don't." - -"Why----" she said hesitantly, "Tom's got some woman in New York." - -"Got some woman?" I repeated blankly. - -Miss Baker nodded. - -"She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner-time. Don't -you think?" - -Almost before I had grasped her meaning there was the flutter of -a dress and the crunch of leather boots and Tom and Daisy were back -at the table. - -"It couldn't be helped!" cried Daisy with tense gayety. - -She sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me and -continued: "I looked outdoors for a minute and it's very romantic -outdoors. There's a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale -come over on the Cunard or White Star Line. He's singing away----" her -voice sang "----It's romantic, isn't it, Tom?" - -"Very romantic," he said, and then miserably to me: "If it's light enough -after dinner I want to take you down to the stables." - -The telephone rang inside, startlingly, and as Daisy shook her -head decisively at Tom the subject of the stables, in fact all -subjects, vanished into air. Among the broken fragments of the -last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, -pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at every -one and yet to avoid all eyes. I couldn't guess what Daisy and Tom -were thinking but I doubt if even Miss Baker who seemed to have -mastered a certain hardy skepticism was able utterly to put this fifth -guest's shrill metallic urgency out of mind. To a certain temperament -the situation might have seemed intriguing--my own instinct was to -telephone immediately for the police. - -The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss -Baker, with several feet of twilight between them strolled back into -the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while -trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf I followed -Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front. In -its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee. - -Daisy took her face in her hands, as if feeling its lovely shape, and -her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk. I saw that turbulent -emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some -sedative 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 feebly 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 feeling 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 wept. '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--the most advanced people. And I KNOW. -I've been everywhere and seen everything and done everything." -Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Tom's, and she -laughed with thrilling scorn. "Sophisticated--God, I'm sophisticated!" - -The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, -my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. -It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick -of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited, -and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk -on her lovely face as if she had asserted her membership in a rather -distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged. - - -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"--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 pictures of -the sporting life at Asheville and Hot Springs and Palm Beach. 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. 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. - -"Is she from New York?" I asked quickly. - -"From Louisville. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Our -beautiful white----" - -"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. It sort of -crept up on us 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. They came to the door with me and stood side by -side in a cheerful square of light. As I started my motor Daisy -peremptorily 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," corroborated Tom kindly. "We heard that you were -engaged." - -"It's libel. I'm too poor." - -"But we heard it," insisted Daisy, surprising me by opening up again in -a flower-like way. "We heard it from three people so it must be true." - -Of course I knew what they were referring to, but I wasn't even vaguely -engaged. The fact that gossip had published the banns was one of the -reasons I had come east. You can't stop going with an old friend on -account of rumors and on the other hand I had no intention of being -rumored into marriage. - -Their interest rather touched me and made them less remotely -rich--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 intentions -in her head. As for Tom, the fact that he "had some woman in New York" -was really less surprising than that he had been depressed by a book. -Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his -sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart. - -Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside -garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I -reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for -a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. The wind had blown -off, leaving a loud bright night with wings beating in the trees and -a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the -frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the -moonlight and turning my head to watch it I saw that I was not -alone--fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my -neighbor's mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets -regarding the silver pepper of the stars. Something in his leisurely -movements and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested -that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to determine what share was -his of our local heavens. - -I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and -that would do for an introduction. But I didn't call to him for he gave -a sudden intimation 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 sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward--and -distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, -that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby -he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness. - - - - -Chapter 2 - - - -About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily -joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to -shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. 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 and finally, with a transcendent effort, of -men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. -Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives -out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey -men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud -which screens their obscure operations from your sight. - -But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift -endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. -J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg are blue and -gigantic--their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face but, -instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a -nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to -fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself -into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, -dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun and rain, brood on over -the solemn dumping ground. - -The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and -when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on -waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an -hour. There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was -because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan's mistress. - -The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known. His -acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular -restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, -chatting with whomsoever he knew. 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 ashheaps he jumped -to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the -car. - -"We're getting off!" he insisted. "I want you to meet my girl." - -I think he'd tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to -have my company bordered on violence. The supercilious assumption was that -on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to do. - -I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence 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 -sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street -ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing. One of the -three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night -restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a -garage--Repairs. GEORGE B. WILSON. Cars Bought and Sold--and I followed -Tom inside. - -The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car visible was the -dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner. It had -occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that -sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the -proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands -on a piece of waste. He was a blonde, spiritless man, anaemic, and -faintly handsome. When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his -light blue eyes. - -"Hello, Wilson, old man," said Tom, slapping him jovially on the -shoulder. "How's business?" - -"I can't complain," answered Wilson unconvincingly. "When are you going -to sell me that car?" - -"Next week; I've got my man working on it now." - -"Works pretty slow, don't he?" - -"No, he doesn't," said Tom coldly. "And if you feel that way about it, -maybe I'd better sell it somewhere else after all." - -"I don't mean that," explained Wilson quickly. "I just meant----" - -His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage. Then -I heard footsteps on a stairs and in a moment the thickish figure of a -woman blocked out the light from the office door. She was in the middle -thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously -as some women can. Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue -crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty but there was an -immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body -were continually smouldering. She smiled slowly and walking through her -husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in -the eye. Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her -husband in a soft, coarse voice: - -"Get some chairs, why don't you, so somebody can sit down." - -"Oh, sure," agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, -mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls. A white ashen -dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in -the vicinity--except his wife, who moved close to Tom. - -"I want to see you," said Tom intently. "Get on the next train." - -"All right." - -"I'll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level." - -She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson -emerged with two chairs from his office door. - -We waited for her down the road and out of sight. It was a few days before -the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was setting -torpedoes in a row along the railroad track. - -"Terrible place, isn't it," said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor -Eckleburg. - -"Awful." - -"It does her good to get away." - -"Doesn't her husband object?" - -"Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New York. He's so dumb -he doesn't know he's alive." - -So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up together to New York--or not -quite together, for Mrs. Wilson sat discreetly in another car. Tom -deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be -on the train. - -She had changed her dress to a brown figured muslin which stretched -tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in -New York. At the news-stand she bought a copy of "Town Tattle" and a -moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream -and a small flask of perfume. Upstairs, in the solemn echoing drive -she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, -lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the -mass of the station into the glowing sunshine. But immediately she -turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the -front glass. - -"I want to get one of those dogs," she said earnestly. "I want to get one -for the apartment. They're nice to have--a dog." - -We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd resemblance to John -D. Rockefeller. In a basket, swung from his neck, cowered a dozen very -recent puppies of an indeterminate breed. - -"What kind are they?" asked Mrs. Wilson eagerly as he came to the -taxi-window. - -"All kinds. What kind do you want, lady?" - -"I'd like to get one of those police dogs; I don't suppose you got that -kind?" - -The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew -one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck. - -"That's no police dog," said Tom. - -"No, it's not exactly a polICE dog," said the man with disappointment -in his voice. "It's more of an airedale." He passed his hand over the -brown wash-rag of a back. "Look at that coat. Some coat. That's a dog -that'll never bother you with catching cold." - -"I think it's cute," said Mrs. Wilson enthusiastically. "How much is it?" - -"That dog?" He looked at it admiringly. "That dog will cost you ten -dollars." - -The airedale--undoubtedly there was an airedale concerned in it somewhere -though its feet were startlingly white--changed hands and settled down -into Mrs. Wilson's lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with -rapture. - -"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked delicately. - -"That dog? That dog's a boy." - -"It's a bitch," said Tom decisively. "Here's your money. Go and buy ten -more dogs with it." - -We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the -summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn't have been surprised to see a great -flock of white sheep turn the corner. - -"Hold on," I said, "I have to leave you here." - -"No, you don't," interposed Tom quickly. "Myrtle'll be hurt if you don't -come up to the apartment. Won't you, -Myrtle?" - -"Come on," she urged. "I'll telephone my sister Catherine. She's said to -be very beautiful by people who ought to know." - -"Well, I'd like to, but----" - -We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds. -At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of -apartment houses. Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the -neighborhood, Mrs. Wilson gathered up her dog and her other purchases -and went haughtily in. - -"I'm going to have the McKees come up," she announced as we rose in the -elevator. "And of course I got to call up my sister, too." - -The apartment was on the top floor--a small living room, a small -dining room, a small bedroom and a bath. The living room was crowded to -the doors with a set of tapestried furniture entirely too large for it -so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of -ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles. The only picture was -an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred -rock. Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself -into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down -into the room. Several old copies of "Town Tattle "lay on the table -together with a copy of "Simon Called Peter" and some of the small -scandal magazines of Broadway. Mrs. Wilson was first concerned with -the dog. A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and -some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large -hard dog biscuits--one of which decomposed apathetically in the saucer -of milk all afternoon. Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey -from a locked bureau door. - -I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that -afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it -although until after eight o'clock the apartment was full of cheerful -sun. Sitting on Tom's lap Mrs. Wilson called up several people on the -telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at -the drug store on the corner. When I came back they had disappeared so -I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of "Simon -Called Peter"--either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted -things because it didn't make any sense to me. - -Just as Tom and Myrtle--after the first drink Mrs. Wilson and I called -each other by our first names--reappeared, company commenced to arrive -at the apartment door. - -The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty -with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a complexion powdered milky -white. Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more -rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the -old alignment gave a blurred air to her face. When she moved about -there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets -jingled up and down upon her arms. She came in with such a proprietary -haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered -if she lived here. But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated -my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel. - -Mr. McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below. He had just -shaved for there was a white spot of lather on his cheekbone and he -was most respectful in his greeting to everyone in the room. He -informed me that he was in the "artistic game" and I gathered later -that he was a photographer and had made the dim enlargement of Mrs. -Wilson's mother which hovered like an ectoplasm on the wall. His wife -was shrill, languid, handsome and horrible. She told me with pride -that her husband had photographed her a hundred and twenty-seven times -since they had been married. - -Mrs. Wilson had changed her costume some time before and was now -attired in an elaborate afternoon dress of cream colored chiffon, which -gave out a continual rustle as she swept about the room. -With the influence of the dress her personality had also undergone a -change. The intense vitality that had been so remarkable in the garage -was converted into impressive hauteur. Her laughter, her gestures, her -assertions became more violently affected moment by moment and as she -expanded the room grew smaller around her until she seemed to be -revolving on a noisy, creaking pivot through the smoky air. - -"My dear," she told her sister in a high mincing shout, "most of these -fellas will cheat you every time. All they think of is money. I had a -woman up here last week to look at my feet and when she gave me the -bill you'd of thought she had my appendicitus out." - -"What was the name of the woman?" asked Mrs. McKee. - -"Mrs. Eberhardt. She goes around looking at people's feet in their own -homes." - -"I like your dress," remarked Mrs. McKee, "I think it's adorable." - -Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment by raising her eyebrow in disdain. - -"It's just a crazy old thing," she said. "I just slip it on sometimes when -I don't care what I look like." - -"But it looks wonderful on you, if you know what I mean," pursued -Mrs. McKee. "If Chester could only get you in that pose I think he could -make something of it." - -We all looked in silence at Mrs. Wilson who removed a strand of hair from -over her eyes and looked back at us with a brilliant smile. Mr. McKee -regarded her intently with his head on one side and then moved his hand -back and forth slowly in front of his face. - -"I should change the light," he said after a moment. "I'd like to bring -out the modelling of the features. And I'd try to get hold of all the -back hair." - -"I wouldn't think of changing the light," cried Mrs. McKee. "I think -it's----" - -Her husband said "SH!" and we all looked at the subject again whereupon -Tom Buchanan yawned audibly and got to his feet. - -"You McKees have something to drink," he said. "Get some more ice and -mineral water, Myrtle, before everybody goes to sleep." - -"I told that boy about the ice." Myrtle raised her eyebrows in despair -at the shiftlessness of the lower orders. "These people! You have to keep -after them all the time." - -She looked at me and laughed pointlessly. Then she flounced over to the -dog, kissed it with ecstasy and swept into the kitchen, implying that -a dozen chefs awaited her orders there. - -"I've done some nice things out on Long Island," asserted Mr. McKee. - -Tom looked at him blankly. - -"Two of them we have framed downstairs." - -"Two what?" demanded Tom. - -"Two studies. One of them I call 'Montauk Point--the Gulls,' and the -other I call 'Montauk Point--the Sea.' " - -The sister Catherine sat down beside me on the couch. - -"Do you live down on Long Island, too?" she inquired. - -"I live at West Egg." - -"Really? I was down there at a party about a month ago. At a man named -Gatsby's. Do you know him?" - -"I live next door to him." - -"Well, they say he's a nephew or a cousin of Kaiser Wilhelm's. That's -where all his money comes from." - -"Really?" - -She nodded. - -"I'm scared of him. I'd hate to have him get anything on me." - -This absorbing information about my neighbor was interrupted by -Mrs. McKee's pointing suddenly at Catherine: - -"Chester, I think you could do something with HER," she broke out, -but Mr. McKee only nodded in a bored way and turned his attention -to Tom. - -"I'd like to do more work on Long Island if I could get the entry. All -I ask is that they should give me a start." - -"Ask Myrtle," said Tom, breaking into a short shout of laughter as -Mrs. Wilson entered with a tray. "She'll give you a letter of -introduction, won't you, Myrtle?" - -"Do what?" she asked, startled. - -"You'll give McKee a letter of introduction to your husband, so he can -do some studies of him." His lips moved silently for a moment as he -invented. " 'George B. 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." - -"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. -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. "Nobody forced you to." - -Myrtle considered. - -"I married him because I thought he was a gentleman," she said finally. -"I thought he knew something about breeding, but he wasn't fit to lick -my shoe." - -"You were crazy about him for a while," said Catherine. - -"Crazy about him!" cried Myrtle incredulously. "Who said I was crazy about -him? I never was any more crazy about him than I was about that man -there." - -She pointed suddenly at me, and every one looked at me accusingly. -I tried to show by my expression that I had played no part in her past. - -"The only CRAZY I was was when I married him. I knew right away I made a -mistake. He borrowed somebody's best suit to get married in and never -even told me about it, and the man came after it one day when he was out. -She looked around to see who was listening: " 'Oh, is that your suit?' I -said. -'This is the first I ever heard about it.' But I gave it to him and then I -lay down -and cried to beat the band all afternoon." - -"She really ought to get away from him," resumed Catherine to me. -"They've been living over that garage for eleven years. And Tom's the -first sweetie she ever had." - -The bottle of whiskey--a second one--was now in constant demand by all -present, excepting Catherine who "felt just as good on nothing at all." -Tom rang for the janitor and sent him for some celebrated sandwiches, -which were a complete supper in themselves. I wanted to get out and walk -eastward toward the park through the soft twilight but each time I tried -to go I became entangled in some wild strident argument which pulled me -back, as if with ropes, into my chair. Yet high over the city our line of -yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the -casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and -wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled -by the inexhaustible variety of life. - -Myrtle pulled her chair close to mine, and suddenly her warm breath -poured over me the story of her first meeting with Tom. - -"It was on the two little seats facing each other that are always the -last ones left on the train. I was going up to New York to see my -sister and spend the night. He had on a dress suit and patent leather -shoes and I couldn't keep my eyes off him but every time he looked at -me I had to pretend to be looking at the advertisement over his head. -When we came into the station he was next to me and his white -shirt-front pressed against my arm--and so I told him I'd have to call -a policeman, but he knew I lied. I was so excited that when I got into -a taxi with him I didn't hardly know I wasn't getting into a subway -train. All I kept thinking about, over and over, was 'You can't live -forever, you can't live forever.' " - -She turned to Mrs. McKee and the room rang full of her artificial -laughter. - -"My dear," she cried, "I'm going to give you this dress as soon as I'm -through with it. I've got to get another one tomorrow. I'm going to -make a list of all the things I've got to get. A massage and a wave -and a collar for the dog and one of those cute little ash-trays where -you touch a spring, and a wreath with a black silk bow for mother's -grave that'll last all summer. I got to write down a list so I won't -forget all the things I got to do." - -It was nine o'clock--almost immediately afterward I looked at my watch -and found it was ten. Mr. McKee was asleep on a chair with his fists -clenched in his lap, like a photograph of a man of action. Taking out my -handkerchief I wiped from his cheek the remains of the spot of dried -lather that had worried me all the afternoon. - -The little dog was sitting on the table looking with blind eyes through -the smoke and from time to time groaning faintly. People disappeared, -reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, -searched for each other, found each other a few feet away. Some time -toward midnight Tom Buchanan and Mrs. Wilson stood face to face -discussing in impassioned voices whether Mrs. Wilson had any right to -mention Daisy's name. - -"Daisy! Daisy! Daisy!" shouted Mrs. Wilson. "I'll say it whenever I want -to! Daisy! Dai----" - -Making a short deft movement Tom Buchanan broke her nose with his -open hand. - -Then there were bloody towels upon the bathroom floor, and women's -voices scolding, and high over the confusion a long broken wail of -pain. Mr. McKee awoke from his doze and started in a daze toward the door. -When he had gone half way he turned around and stared at the scene--his -wife and Catherine scolding and consoling as they stumbled here and -there among the crowded furniture with articles of aid, and the -despairing figure on the couch bleeding fluently and trying to spread -a copy of "Town Tattle" over the tapestry scenes of Versailles. -Then Mr. McKee turned and continued on out the door. Taking my hat from -the chandelier I followed. - -"Come to lunch some day," he suggested, as we groaned down in the -elevator. - -"Where?" - -"Anywhere." - -"Keep your hands off the lever," snapped the elevator boy. - -"I beg your pardon," said Mr. McKee with dignity, "I didn't know I was -touching it." - -"All right," I agreed, "I'll be glad to." - -. . . I was standing beside his bed and he was sitting up between the -sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands. - -"Beauty and the Beast . . . Loneliness . . . Old Grocery Horse . . . -Brook'n Bridge . . . ." - -Then I was lying half asleep in the cold lower level of the Pennsylvania -Station, staring at the morning "Tribune" and waiting for the four -o'clock train. - - - - -Chapter 3 - - - -There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In -his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the -whisperings and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in the -afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft or -taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boats -slit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of -foam. On week-ends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties -to and from the city, between nine in the morning and long past -midnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to -meet all trains. And on Mondays eight servants including an extra -gardener toiled all day with mops and scrubbing-brushes and hammers -and garden-shears, repairing the ravages of the night before. - -Every Friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer -in New York--every Monday these same oranges and lemons left his back -door in a pyramid of pulpless halves. There was a machine in the -kitchen which could extract the juice of two hundred oranges in half an -hour, if a little button was pressed two hundred times by a butler's -thumb. - -At least once a fortnight a corps of caterers came down with several -hundred feet of canvas and enough colored lights to make a Christmas -tree of Gatsby's enormous garden. On buffet tables, garnished with -glistening hors-d'oeuvre, spiced baked hams crowded against salads of -harlequin designs and pastry pigs and turkeys bewitched to a dark gold. -In the main hall a bar with a real brass rail was set up, and stocked -with gins and liquors and with cordials so long forgotten that most of -his female guests were too young to know one from another. - -By seven o'clock the orchestra has arrived--no thin five-piece affair -but a whole pitful of oboes and trombones and saxophones and viols and -cornets and piccolos and low and high drums. The last swimmers have -come in from the beach now and are dressing upstairs; the cars from -New York are parked five deep in the drive, and already the halls and -salons and verandas are gaudy with primary colors and hair shorn in -strange new ways and shawls beyond the dreams of Castile. The -bar is in full swing and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the -garden outside until the air is alive with chatter and laughter and -casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot and -enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each other's names. - -The lights grow brighter as the earth lurches away from the sun and -now the orchestra is playing yellow cocktail music and the opera of -voices pitches a key higher. Laughter is easier, minute by minute, -spilled with prodigality, tipped out at a cheerful word. The groups -change more swiftly, swell with new arrivals, dissolve and form in the -same breath--already there are wanderers, confident girls who weave -here and there among the stouter and more stable, become for a sharp, -joyous moment the center of a group and then excited with triumph -glide on through the sea-change of faces and voices and color under the -constantly changing light. - -Suddenly one of these gypsies in trembling opal, seizes a cocktail out -of the air, dumps it down for courage and moving her hands like -Frisco dances out alone on the canvas platform. A momentary hush; the -orchestra leader varies his rhythm obligingly for her and there is a -burst of chatter as the erroneous news goes around that she is Gilda -Gray's understudy from the "Follies." The party has begun. - -I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of -the few guests who had actually been invited. People were not -invited--they went there. They got into automobiles which bore them out -to Long Island and somehow they ended up at Gatsby's door. Once there -they were introduced by somebody who knew Gatsby and after that they -conducted themselves according to the rules of behavior associated with -amusement parks. Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby -at all, came for the party with a simplicity of heart that was its own -ticket of admission. - -I had been actually invited. A chauffeur in a uniform of robin's egg -blue crossed my lawn early that Saturday morning with a surprisingly -formal note from his employer--the honor would be entirely Gatsby's, it -said, if I would attend his "little party" that night. He had -seen me several times and had intended to call on me long before -but a peculiar combination of circumstances had prevented it--signed -Jay Gatsby in a majestic hand. - -Dressed up in white flannels I went over to his lawn a little after -seven and wandered around rather ill-at-ease among swirls and eddies -of people I didn't know--though here and there was a face I had noticed -on the commuting train. I was immediately struck by the number of young -Englishmen dotted about; all well dressed, all looking a little hungry -and all talking in low earnest voices to solid and prosperous -Americans. I was sure that they were selling something: bonds or -insurance or automobiles. They were, at least, agonizingly aware of the -easy money in the vicinity and convinced that it was theirs for a few -words in the right key. - -As soon as I arrived I made an attempt to find my host but the two or -three people of whom I asked his whereabouts stared at me in such an -amazed way and denied so vehemently any knowledge of his movements -that I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table--the only place -in the garden where a single man could linger without looking -purposeless and alone. - -I was on my way to get roaring drunk from sheer embarrassment when -Jordan Baker came out of the house and stood at the head of the marble -steps, leaning a little backward and looking with contemptuous interest -down into the garden. - -Welcome or not, I found it necessary to attach myself to someone -before I should begin to address cordial remarks to the passers-by. - -"Hello!" I roared, advancing toward her. My voice seemed unnaturally -loud across the garden. - -"I thought you might be here," she responded absently as I came up. -"I remembered you lived next door to----" - -She held my hand impersonally, as a promise that she'd take care -of me in a minute, and gave ear to two girls in twin yellow dresses -who stopped at the foot of the steps. - -"Hello!" they cried together. "Sorry you didn't win." - -That was for the golf tournament. She had lost in the finals the week -before. - -"You don't know who we are," said one of the girls in yellow, "but we -met you here about a month ago." - -"You've dyed your hair since then," remarked Jordan, and I started -but the girls had moved casually on and her remark was addressed to the -premature moon, produced like the supper, no doubt, out of a caterer's -basket. With Jordan's slender golden arm resting in mine we descended -the steps and sauntered about the garden. A tray of cocktails floated at -us through the twilight and we sat down at a table with the two girls in -yellow and three men, each one introduced to us as Mr. Mumble. - -"Do you come to these parties often?" inquired Jordan of the girl -beside her. - -"The last one was the one I met you at," answered the girl, in an alert, -confident voice. She turned to her companion: "Wasn't it for you, -Lucille?" - -It was for Lucille, too. - -"I like to come," Lucille said. "I never care what I do, so I always have -a good time. When I was here last I tore my gown on a chair, and he asked -me my name and address--inside of a week I got a package from Croirier's -with a new evening gown in it." - -"Did you keep it?" asked Jordan. - -"Sure I did. I was going to wear it tonight, but it was too big in the -bust and had to be altered. It was gas blue with lavender beads. Two -hundred and sixty-five dollars." - -"There's something funny about a fellow that'll do a thing like that," -said the other girl eagerly. "He doesn't want any trouble with ANYbody." - -"Who doesn't?" I inquired. - -"Gatsby. Somebody told me----" - -The two girls and Jordan leaned together confidentially. - -"Somebody told me they thought he killed a man once." - -A thrill passed over all of us. The three Mr. Mumbles bent forward and -listened eagerly. - -"I don't think it's so much THAT," argued Lucille skeptically; "it's -more that he was a German spy during the war." - -One of the men nodded in confirmation. - -"I heard that from a man who knew all about him, grew up with him in -Germany," he assured us positively. - -"Oh, no," said the first girl, "it couldn't be that, because he was in -the American army during the war." As our credulity switched back to -her she leaned forward with enthusiasm. "You look at him sometimes when -he thinks nobody's looking at him. I'll bet he killed a man." - -She narrowed her eyes and shivered. Lucille shivered. We all turned and -looked around for Gatsby. It was testimony to the romantic speculation he -inspired that there were whispers about him from those who found little -that it was necessary to whisper about in this world. - -The first supper--there would be another one after midnight--was now -being served, and Jordan invited me to join her own party who were -spread around a table on the other side of the garden. There were -three married couples and Jordan's escort, a persistent undergraduate -given to violent innuendo and obviously under the impression -that sooner or later Jordan was going to yield him up her person -to a greater or lesser degree. Instead of rambling this party -had preserved a dignified homogeneity, and assumed to itself the -function of representing the staid nobility of the countryside--East -Egg condescending to West Egg, and carefully on guard against its -spectroscopic gayety. - -"Let's get out," whispered Jordan, after a somehow wasteful and -inappropriate half hour. "This is much too polite for me." - -We got up, and she explained that we were going to find the host--I -had never met him, she said, and it was making me uneasy. The -undergraduate nodded in a cynical, melancholy way. - -The bar, where we glanced first, was crowded but Gatsby was not there. -She couldn't find him from the top of the steps, and he wasn't on the -veranda. On a chance we tried an important-looking door, and walked -into a high Gothic library, panelled with carved English oak, and -probably transported complete from some ruin overseas. - -A stout, middle-aged man with enormous owl-eyed spectacles was -sitting somewhat drunk on the edge of a great table, staring with -unsteady concentration at the shelves of books. As we entered he -wheeled excitedly around and examined Jordan from head to foot. - -"What do you think?" he demanded impetuously. - -"About what?" - -He waved his hand toward the book-shelves. - -"About that. As a matter of fact you needn't bother to ascertain. I -ascertained. They're real." - -"The books?" - -He nodded. - -"Absolutely real--have pages and everything. I thought they'd be a nice -durable cardboard. Matter of fact, they're absolutely real. Pages -and--Here! Lemme show you." - -Taking our skepticism for granted, he rushed to the bookcases and -returned with Volume One of the "Stoddard Lectures." - -"See!" he cried triumphantly. "It's a bona fide piece of printed matter. -It fooled me. This fella's a regular Belasco. It's a triumph. What -thoroughness! What realism! Knew when to stop too--didn't cut the pages. -But what do you want? What do you expect?" - -He snatched the book from me and replaced it hastily on its shelf -muttering that if one brick was removed the whole library was liable -to collapse. - -"Who brought you?" he demanded. "Or did you just come? I was brought. -Most people were brought." - -Jordan looked at him alertly, cheerfully without answering. - -"I was brought by a woman named Roosevelt," he continued. "Mrs. Claud -Roosevelt. Do you know her? I met her somewhere last night. I've -been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me -up to sit in a library." - -"Has it?" - -"A little bit, I think. I can't tell yet. I've only been here -an hour. Did I tell you about the books? They're real. They're----" - -"You told us." - -We shook hands with him gravely and went back outdoors. - -There was dancing now on the canvas in the garden, old men pushing -young girls backward in eternal graceless circles, superior couples -holding each other tortuously, fashionably and keeping in the -corners--and a great number of single girls dancing individualistically -or relieving the orchestra for a moment of the burden of the banjo or -the traps. By midnight the hilarity had increased. A celebrated tenor had -sung in Italian and a notorious contralto had sung in jazz and between -the numbers people were doing "stunts" all over the garden, while happy -vacuous bursts of laughter rose toward the summer sky. A pair of stage -"twins"--who turned out to be the girls in yellow--did a baby act in -costume and champagne was served in glasses bigger than finger bowls. -The moon had risen higher, and floating in the Sound was a triangle of -silver scales, trembling a little to the stiff, tinny drip of the -banjoes on the lawn. - -I was still with Jordan Baker. We were sitting at a table with a man of -about my age and a rowdy little girl who gave way upon the slightest -provocation to uncontrollable laughter. I was enjoying myself now. I -had taken two finger bowls of champagne and the scene had changed -before my eyes into something significant, elemental and profound. - -At a lull in the entertainment the man looked at me and smiled. - -"Your face is familiar," he said, politely. "Weren't you in the Third -Division during the war?" - -"Why, yes. I was in the Ninth Machine-Gun Battalion." - -"I was in the Seventh Infantry until June nineteen-eighteen. I knew I'd -seen you somewhere before." - -We talked for a moment about some wet, grey little villages in France. -Evidently he lived in this vicinity for he told me that he had just -bought a hydroplane and was going to try it out in the morning. - -"Want to go with me, old sport? Just near the shore along the Sound." - -"What time?" - -"Any time that suits you best." - -It was on the tip of my tongue to ask his name when Jordan looked around -and smiled. - -"Having a gay time now?" she inquired. - -"Much better." I turned again to my new acquaintance. "This is an unusual -party for me. I haven't even seen the host. I live over there----" I waved -my hand at the invisible hedge in the distance, "and this man Gatsby sent -over his chauffeur with an invitation." - -For a moment he looked at me as if he failed to understand. - -"I'm Gatsby," he said suddenly. - -"What!" I exclaimed. "Oh, I beg your pardon." - -"I thought you knew, old sport. I'm afraid I'm not a very good host." - -He smiled understandingly--much more than understandingly. It was -one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance -in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or -seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then -concentrated on YOU with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It -understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in -you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it -had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to -convey. Precisely at that point it vanished--and I was looking at an -elegant young rough-neck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate -formality of speech just missed being absurd. Some time before he -introduced himself I'd got a strong impression that he was picking his -words with care. - -Almost at the moment when Mr. Gatsby identified himself a butler -hurried toward him with the information that Chicago was calling him on -the wire. He excused himself with a small bow that included each of us -in turn. - -"If you want anything just ask for it, old sport," he urged me. -"Excuse me. I will rejoin you later." - -When he was gone I turned immediately to Jordan--constrained to assure her -of my surprise. I had expected that Mr. Gatsby would be a florid and -corpulent person in his middle years. - -"Who is he?" I demanded. "Do you know?" - -"He's just a man named Gatsby." - -"Where is he from, I mean? And what does he do?" - -"Now YOU're started on the subject," she answered with a wan smile. -"Well,--he told me once he was an Oxford man." - -A dim background started to take shape behind him but at her -next remark it faded away. - -"However, I don't believe it." - -"Why not?" - -"I don't know," she insisted, "I just don't think he went there." - -Something in her tone reminded me of the other girl's "I think -he killed a man," and had the effect of stimulating my curiosity. I -would have accepted without question the information that Gatsby sprang -from the swamps of Louisiana or from the lower East Side of New York. -That was comprehensible. But young men didn't--at least in my provincial -inexperience I believed they didn't--drift coolly out of nowhere and buy -a palace on Long Island Sound. - -"Anyhow he gives large parties," said Jordan, changing the subject -with an urbane distaste for the concrete. "And I like large parties. -They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy." - -There was the boom of a bass drum, and the voice of the orchestra leader -rang out suddenly above the echolalia of the garden. - -"Ladies and gentlemen," he cried. "At the request of Mr. Gatsby we are -going to play for you Mr. Vladimir Tostoff's latest work which attracted -so much attention at Carnegie Hall last May. If you read the papers -you know there was a big sensation." He smiled with jovial condescension -and added "Some sensation!" whereupon everybody laughed. - -"The piece is known," he concluded lustily, "as 'Vladimir Tostoff's -Jazz History of the World.' " - -The nature of Mr. Tostoff's composition eluded me, because just as -it began my eyes fell on Gatsby, standing alone on the marble steps -and looking from one group to another with approving eyes. -His tanned skin was drawn attractively tight on his face and -his short hair looked as though it were trimmed every day. I could -see nothing sinister about him. I wondered if the fact that he was -not drinking helped to set him off from his guests, for it seemed -to me that he grew more correct as the fraternal hilarity increased. -When the "Jazz History of the World" was over girls were putting -their heads on men's shoulders in a puppyish, convivial way, girls were -swooning backward playfully into men's arms, even into groups knowing -that some one would arrest their falls--but no one swooned backward on -Gatsby and no French bob touched Gatsby's shoulder and no singing -quartets were formed with Gatsby's head for one link. - -"I beg your pardon." - -Gatsby's butler was suddenly standing beside us. - -"Miss Baker?" he inquired. "I beg your pardon but Mr. Gatsby would like -to speak to you alone." - -"With me?" she exclaimed in surprise. - -"Yes, madame." - -She got up slowly, raising her eyebrows at me in astonishment, -and followed the butler toward the house. I noticed that she wore -her evening dress, all her dresses, like sports clothes--there -was a jauntiness about her movements as if she had first learned to -walk upon golf courses on clean, crisp mornings. - -I was alone and it was almost two. For some time confused and -intriguing sounds had issued from a long many-windowed room which -overhung the terrace. Eluding Jordan's undergraduate who was now -engaged in an obstetrical conversation with two chorus girls, and who -implored me to join him, I went inside. - -The large room was full of people. One of the girls in yellow was -playing the piano and beside her stood a tall, red haired young lady -from a famous chorus, engaged in song. She had drunk a quantity of -champagne and during the course of her song she had decided ineptly -that everything was very very sad--she was not only singing, she was -weeping too. Whenever there was a pause in the song she filled it with -gasping broken sobs and then took up the lyric again in a quavering -soprano. The tears coursed down her cheeks--not freely, however, for when -they came into contact with her heavily beaded eyelashes they assumed an -inky color, and pursued the rest of their way in slow black rivulets. A -humorous suggestion was made that she sing the notes on her face -whereupon she threw up her hands, sank into a chair and went off into -a deep vinous sleep. - -"She had a fight with a man who says he's her husband," explained a -girl at my elbow. - -I looked around. Most of the remaining women were now having fights -with men said to be their husbands. Even Jordan's party, the quartet -from East Egg, were rent asunder by dissension. One of the men was -talking with curious intensity to a young actress, and his wife after -attempting to laugh at the situation in a dignified and indifferent -way broke down entirely and resorted to flank attacks--at intervals she -appeared suddenly at his side like an angry diamond, and hissed "You -promised!" into his ear. - -The reluctance to go home was not confined to wayward men. The hall was at -present occupied by two deplorably sober men and their highly indignant -wives. The wives were sympathizing with each other in slightly raised -voices. - -"Whenever he sees I'm having a good time he wants to go home." - -"Never heard anything so selfish in my life." - -"We're always the first ones to leave." - -"So are we." - -"Well, we're almost the last tonight," said one of the men sheepishly. -"The orchestra left half an hour ago." - -In spite of the wives' agreement that such malevolence was beyond -credibility, the dispute ended in a short struggle, and both wives were -lifted kicking into the night. - -As I waited for my hat in the hall the door of the library opened and -Jordan Baker and Gatsby came out together. He was saying some last word -to her but the eagerness in his manner tightened abruptly into -formality as several people approached him to say goodbye. - -Jordan's party were calling impatiently to her from the porch but she -lingered for a moment to shake hands. - -"I've just heard the most amazing thing," she whispered. "How long were -we in there?" - -"Why,--about an hour." - -"It was--simply amazing," she repeated abstractedly. "But I swore -I wouldn't tell it and here I am tantalizing you." She yawned -gracefully in my face. "Please come and see me. . . . Phone book. -. . . Under the name of Mrs. Sigourney Howard. . . . My aunt. . . ." -She was hurrying off as she talked--her brown hand waved a -jaunty salute as she melted into her party at the door. - -Rather ashamed that on my first appearance I had stayed so late, I -joined the last of Gatsby's guests who were clustered around him. I -wanted to explain that I'd hunted for him early in the evening and to -apologize for not having known him in the garden. - -"Don't mention it," he enjoined me eagerly. "Don't give it another -thought, old sport." The familiar expression held no more familiarity -than the hand which reassuringly brushed my shoulder. "And don't forget -we're going up in the hydroplane tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." - -Then the butler, behind his shoulder: - -"Philadelphia wants you on the phone, sir." - -"All right, in a minute. Tell them I'll be right there. . . . good -night." - -"Good night." - -"Good night." He smiled--and suddenly there seemed to be a pleasant -significance in having been among the last to go, as if he had desired -it all the time. "Good night, old sport. . . . Good night." - -But as I walked down the steps I saw that the evening was not quite over. -Fifty feet from the door a dozen headlights illuminated a bizarre and -tumultuous scene. In the ditch beside the road, right side up but -violently shorn of one wheel, rested a new coupé which had left Gatsby's -drive not two minutes before. The sharp jut of a wall accounted for the -detachment of the wheel which was now getting considerable attention from -half a dozen curious chauffeurs. However, as they had left their cars -blocking the road a harsh discordant din from those in the rear had been -audible for some time and added to the already violent confusion of -the scene. - -A man in a long duster had dismounted from the wreck and now stood in -the middle of the road, looking from the car to the tire and from the -tire to the observers in a pleasant, puzzled way. - -"See!" he explained. "It went in the ditch." - -The fact was infinitely astonishing to him--and I recognized first the -unusual quality of wonder and then the man--it was the late patron of -Gatsby's library. - -"How'd it happen?" - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"I know nothing whatever about mechanics," he said decisively. - -"But how did it happen? Did you run into the wall?" - -"Don't ask me," said Owl Eyes, washing his hands of the whole matter. -"I know very little about driving--next to nothing. It happened, -and that's all I know." - -"Well, if you're a poor driver you oughtn't to try driving at night." - -"But I wasn't even trying," he explained indignantly, "I wasn't even -trying." - -An awed hush fell upon the bystanders. - -"Do you want to commit suicide?" - -"You're lucky it was just a wheel! A bad driver and not even TRYing!" - -"You don't understand," explained the criminal. "I wasn't driving. There's -another man in the car." - -The shock that followed this declaration found voice in a sustained -"Ah-h-h!" as the door of the coupé swung slowly open. The crowd--it was -now a crowd--stepped back involuntarily and when the door had opened wide -there was a ghostly pause. Then, very gradually, part by part, a pale -dangling individual stepped out of the wreck, pawing tentatively at the -ground with a large uncertain dancing shoe. - -Blinded by the glare of the headlights and confused by the incessant -groaning of the horns the apparition stood swaying for a moment before -he perceived the man in the duster. - -"Wha's matter?" he inquired calmly. "Did we run outa gas?" - -"Look!" - -Half a dozen fingers pointed at the amputated wheel--he stared -at it for a moment and then looked upward as though he suspected that -it had dropped from the sky. - -"It came off," some one explained. - -He nodded. - -"At first I din' notice we'd stopped." - -A pause. Then, taking a long breath and straightening his shoulders -he remarked in a determined voice: - -"Wonder'ff tell me where there's a gas'line station?" - -At least a dozen men, some of them little better off than he was, -explained to him that wheel and car were no longer joined by any physical -bond. - -"Back out," he suggested after a moment. "Put her in reverse." - -"But the WHEEL'S off!" - -He hesitated. - -"No harm in trying," he said. - -The caterwauling horns had reached a crescendo and I turned away and -cut across the lawn toward home. I glanced back once. A wafer of a moon -was shining over Gatsby's house, making the night fine as before and -surviving the laughter and the sound of his still glowing garden. A -sudden emptiness seemed to flow now from the windows and the great -doors, endowing with complete isolation the figure of the host who -stood on the porch, his hand up in a formal gesture of farewell. - - -Reading over what I have written so far I see I have given the -impression that the events of three nights several weeks apart were all -that absorbed me. On the contrary they were merely casual events in a -crowded summer and, until much later, they absorbed me infinitely less -than my personal affairs. - -Most of the time I worked. In the early morning the sun threw my shadow -westward as I hurried down the white chasms of lower New York to the -Probity Trust. I knew the other clerks and young bond-salesmen by their -first names and lunched with them in dark crowded restaurants on -little pig sausages and mashed potatoes and coffee. I even had a short -affair with a girl who lived in Jersey City and worked in the -accounting department, but her brother began throwing mean looks in my -direction so when she went on her vacation in July I let it blow -quietly away. - -I took dinner usually at the Yale Club--for some reason it was the -gloomiest event of my day--and then I went upstairs to the library and -studied investments and securities for a conscientious hour. -There were generally a few rioters around but they never came into the -library so it was a good place to work. After that, if the night was -mellow I strolled down Madison Avenue past the old Murray Hill Hotel -and over Thirty-third Street to the Pennsylvania Station. - -I began to like New York, the racy, adventurous feel of it at night -and the satisfaction that the constant flicker of men and women and -machines gives to the restless eye. I liked to walk up Fifth Avenue and -pick out romantic women from the crowd and imagine that in a few -minutes I was going to enter into their lives, and no one would ever -know or disapprove. Sometimes, in my mind, I followed them to their -apartments on the corners of hidden streets, and they turned and smiled -back at me before they faded through a door into warm darkness. At the -enchanted metropolitan twilight I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, -and felt it in others--poor young clerks who loitered in front of windows -waiting until it was time for a solitary restaurant dinner--young clerks -in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life. - -Again at eight o'clock, when the dark lanes of the Forties were five -deep with throbbing taxi cabs, bound for the theatre district, I felt a -sinking in my heart. Forms leaned together in the taxis as they waited, -and voices sang, and there was laughter from unheard jokes, and lighted -cigarettes outlined unintelligible gestures inside. Imagining that -I, too, was hurrying toward gayety and sharing their intimate -excitement, I wished them well. - -For a while I lost sight of Jordan Baker, and then in midsummer I found -her again. At first I was flattered to go places with her because she -was a golf champion and every one knew her name. Then it was -something more. I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of -tender curiosity. The bored haughty face that she turned to the -world concealed something--most affectations conceal something -eventually, even though they don't in the beginning--and one day I found -what it was. When we were on a house-party together up in Warwick, she -left a borrowed car out in the rain with the top down, and then lied -about it--and suddenly I remembered the story about her that had eluded -me that night at Daisy's. At her first big golf tournament there was a -row that nearly reached the newspapers--a suggestion that she had moved -her ball from a bad lie in the semi-final round. The thing approached -the proportions of a scandal--then died away. A caddy retracted his -statement and the only other witness admitted that he might have been -mistaken. The incident and the name had remained together in my mind. - -Jordan Baker instinctively avoided clever shrewd men and now I saw -that this was because she felt safer on a plane where any divergence -from a code would be thought impossible. She was incurably dishonest. -She wasn't able to endure being at a disadvantage, and given this -unwillingness I suppose she had begun dealing in subterfuges when she -was very young in order to keep that cool, insolent smile turned to the -world and yet satisfy the demands of her hard jaunty body. - -It made no difference to me. Dishonesty in a woman is a thing you never -blame deeply--I was casually sorry, and then I forgot. It was on that -same house party that we had a curious conversation about driving a -car. It started because she passed so close to some workmen that our -fender flicked a button on one man's coat. - -"You're a rotten driver," I protested. "Either you ought to be more -careful or you oughtn't to drive at all." - -"I am careful." - -"No, you're not." - -"Well, other people are," she said lightly. - -"What's that got to do with it?" - -"They'll keep out of my way," she insisted. "It takes two to make an -accident." - -"Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself." - -"I hope I never will," she answered. "I hate careless people. That's why -I like you." - -Her grey, sun-strained eyes stared straight ahead, but she had -deliberately shifted our relations, and for a moment I thought I loved -her. But I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes -on my desires, and I knew that first I had to get myself definitely out of -that tangle back home. I'd been writing letters once a week and signing -them: "Love, Nick," and all I could think of was how, when that certain -girl played tennis, a faint mustache of perspiration appeared on her -upper lip. Nevertheless there was a vague understanding that had to be -tactfully broken off before I was free. - -Every one suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and -this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known. - - - - -Chapter 4 - - - -On Sunday morning while church bells rang in the villages along shore -the world and its mistress returned to Gatsby's house and twinkled -hilariously on his lawn. - -"He's a bootlegger," said the young ladies, moving somewhere between -his cocktails and his flowers. "One time he killed a man who had found out -that he was nephew to von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil. -Reach me a rose, honey, and pour me a last drop into that there crystal -glass." - -Once I wrote down on the empty spaces of a time-table the names -of those who came to Gatsby's house that summer. It is an old time-table -now, disintegrating at its folds and headed "This schedule in effect -July 5th, 1922." But I can still read the grey names and they will give -you a better impression than my generalities of those who accepted -Gatsby's hospitality and paid him the subtle tribute of knowing nothing -whatever about him. - -From East Egg, then, came the Chester Beckers and the Leeches and a -man named Bunsen whom I knew at Yale and Doctor Webster Civet who -was drowned last summer up in Maine. And the Hornbeams and the Willie -Voltaires and a whole clan named Blackbuck who always gathered in a -corner and flipped up their noses like goats at whosoever came near. -And the Ismays and the Chrysties (or rather Hubert Auerbach and Mr. -Chrystie's wife) and Edgar Beaver, whose hair they say turned -cotton-white one winter afternoon for no good reason at all. - -Clarence Endive was from East Egg, as I remember. He came only -once, in white knickerbockers, and had a fight with a bum named -Etty in the garden. From farther out on the Island came the Cheadles -and the O. R. P. Schraeders and the Stonewall Jackson Abrams of -Georgia and the Fishguards and the Ripley Snells. Snell was there -three days before he went to the penitentiary, so drunk out on the -gravel drive that Mrs. Ulysses Swett's automobile ran over his right -hand. The Dancies came too and S. B. Whitebait, who was well over -sixty, and Maurice A. Flink and the Hammerheads and Beluga the -tobacco importer and Beluga's girls. - -From West Egg came the Poles and the Mulreadys and Cecil Roebuck and -Cecil Schoen and Gulick the state senator and Newton Orchid who -controlled Films Par Excellence and Eckhaust and Clyde Cohen and Don -S. Schwartze (the son) and Arthur McCarty, all connected with the -movies in one way or another. And the Catlips and the Bembergs and G. -Earl Muldoon, brother to that Muldoon who afterward strangled his wife. -Da Fontano the promoter came there, and Ed Legros and James B. -("Rot-Gut") Ferret and the De Jongs and Ernest Lilly--they came to -gamble and when Ferret wandered into the garden it meant he was -cleaned out and Associated Traction would have to fluctuate profitably -next day. - -A man named Klipspringer was there so often and so long that he became -known as "the boarder"--I doubt if he had any other home. Of theatrical -people there were Gus Waize and Horace O'Donavan and Lester Meyer and -George Duckweed and Francis Bull. Also from New York were the Chromes -and the Backhyssons and the Dennickers and Russel Betty and the -Corrigans and the Kellehers and the Dewars and the Scullys and S. W. -Belcher and the Smirkes and the young Quinns, divorced now, and Henry -L. Palmetto who killed himself by jumping in front of a subway train -in Times Square. - -Benny McClenahan arrived always with four girls. They were never quite -the same ones in physical person but they were so identical one with -another that it inevitably seemed they had been there before. I have -forgotten their names--Jaqueline, I think, or else Consuela or Gloria -or Judy or June, and their last names were either the melodious names -of flowers and months or the sterner ones of the great American -capitalists whose cousins, if pressed, they would confess themselves to -be. - -In addition to all these I can remember that Faustina O'Brien came -there at least once and the Baedeker girls and young Brewer who had -his nose shot off in the war and Mr. Albrucksburger and Miss Haag, his -fiancée, and Ardita Fitz-Peters, and Mr. P. Jewett, once head of the -American Legion, and Miss Claudia Hip with a man reputed to be her -chauffeur, and a prince of something whom we called Duke and whose name, -if I ever knew it, I have forgotten. - -All these people came to Gatsby's house in the summer. - - -At nine o'clock, one morning late in July Gatsby's gorgeous car -lurched up the rocky drive to my door and gave out a burst of melody -from its three noted horn. It was the first time he had called on me -though I had gone to two of his parties, mounted in his hydroplane, -and, at his urgent invitation, made frequent use of his beach. - -"Good morning, old sport. You're having lunch with me today and I -thought we'd ride up together." - -He was balancing himself on the dashboard of his car with that -resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American--that comes, -I suppose, with the absence of lifting work or rigid sitting in youth -and, even more, with the formless grace of our nervous, sporadic games. -This quality was continually breaking through his punctilious manner in -the shape of restlessness. He was never quite still; there was always a -tapping foot somewhere or the impatient opening and closing of a hand. - -He saw me looking with admiration at his car. - -"It's pretty, isn't it, old sport." He jumped off to give me a better -view. "Haven't you ever seen it before?" - -I'd seen it. Everybody had seen it. It was a rich cream color, bright -with nickel, swollen here and there in its monstrous length with -triumphant hatboxes and supper-boxes and tool-boxes, and terraced with a -labyrinth of windshields that mirrored a dozen suns. Sitting down behind -many layers of glass in a sort of green leather conservatory we started -to town. - -I had talked with him perhaps half a dozen times in the past month and -found, to my disappointment, that he had little to say. So my first -impression, that he was a person of some undefined consequence, had -gradually faded and he had become simply the proprietor of an elaborate -roadhouse next door. - -And then came that disconcerting ride. We hadn't reached West Egg -village before Gatsby began leaving his elegant sentences unfinished -and slapping himself indecisively on the knee of his caramel-colored -suit. - -"Look here, old sport," he broke out surprisingly. "What's your opinion -of me, anyhow?" - -A little overwhelmed, I began the generalized evasions which -that question deserves. - -"Well, I'm going to tell you something about my life," he interrupted. -"I don't want you to get a wrong idea of me from all these stories you -hear." - -So he was aware of the bizarre accusations that flavored conversation in -his halls. - -"I'll tell you God's truth." His right hand suddenly ordered divine -retribution to stand by. "I am the son of some wealthy people in the -middle-west--all dead now. I was brought up in America but educated at -Oxford because all my ancestors have been educated there for many years. -It is a family tradition." - -He looked at me sideways--and I knew why Jordan Baker had believed he was -lying. He hurried the phrase "educated at Oxford," or swallowed it or -choked on it as though it had bothered him before. And with this doubt -his whole statement fell to pieces and I wondered if there wasn't -something a little sinister about him after all. - -"What part of the middle-west?" I inquired casually. - -"San Francisco." - -"I see." - -"My family all died and I came into a good deal of money." - -His voice was solemn as if the memory of that sudden extinction of a clan -still haunted him. For a moment I suspected that he was pulling my leg -but a glance at him convinced me otherwise. - -"After that I lived like a young rajah in all the capitals of -Europe--Paris, Venice, Rome--collecting jewels, chiefly rubies, hunting -big game, painting a little, things for myself only, and trying to -forget something very sad that had happened to me long ago." - -With an effort I managed to restrain my incredulous laughter. The very -phrases were worn so threadbare that they evoked no image except that of a -turbaned "character" leaking sawdust at every pore as he pursued a -tiger through the Bois de Boulogne. - -"Then came the war, old sport. It was a great relief and I tried very -hard to die but I seemed to bear an enchanted life. I accepted a -commission as first lieutenant when it began. In the Argonne Forest I -took two machine-gun detachments so far forward that there was a half -mile gap on either side of us where the infantry couldn't advance. We -stayed there two days and two nights, a hundred and thirty men with -sixteen Lewis guns, and when the infantry came up at last they found -the insignia of three German divisions among the piles of dead. I was -promoted to be a major and every Allied government gave me a -decoration--even Montenegro, little Montenegro down on the Adriatic -Sea!" - -Little Montenegro! He lifted up the words and nodded at them--with -his smile. The smile comprehended Montenegro's troubled history and -sympathized with the brave struggles of the Montenegrin people. It -appreciated fully the chain of national circumstances which had -elicited this tribute from Montenegro's warm little heart. My -incredulity was submerged in fascination now; it was like skimming -hastily through a dozen magazines. - -He reached in his pocket and a piece of metal, slung on a ribbon, fell -into my palm. - -"That's the one from Montenegro." - -To my astonishment, the thing had an authentic look. - -_Orderi di Danilo_, ran the circular legend, _Montenegro, Nicolas Rex_. - -"Turn it." - -_Major Jay Gatsby_, I read, _For Valour Extraordinary_. - -"Here's another thing I always carry. A souvenir of Oxford days. It was -taken in Trinity Quad--the man on my left is now the Earl of Dorcaster." - -It was a photograph of half a dozen young men in blazers loafing in an -archway through which were visible a host of spires. There was Gatsby, -looking a little, not much, younger--with a cricket bat in his hand. - -Then it was all true. I saw the skins of tigers flaming in his palace -on the Grand Canal; I saw him opening a chest of rubies to ease, with -their crimson-lighted depths, the gnawings of his broken heart. - -"I'm going to make a big request of you today," he said, pocketing his -souvenirs with satisfaction, "so I thought you ought to know something -about me. I didn't want you to think I was just some nobody. You see, -I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there -trying to forget the sad thing that happened to me." He hesitated. -"You'll hear about it this afternoon." - -"At lunch?" - -"No, this afternoon. I happened to find out that you're taking Miss Baker -to tea." - -"Do you mean you're in love with Miss Baker?" - -"No, old sport, I'm not. But Miss Baker has kindly consented to speak -to you about this matter." - -I hadn't the faintest idea what "this matter" was, but I was more -annoyed than interested. I hadn't asked Jordan to tea in order to discuss -Mr. Jay Gatsby. I was sure the request would be something utterly -fantastic and for a moment I was sorry I'd ever set foot upon his -overpopulated lawn. - -He wouldn't say another word. His correctness grew on him as we neared -the city. We passed Port Roosevelt, where there was a glimpse of -red-belted ocean-going ships, and sped along a cobbled slum lined with -the dark, undeserted saloons of the faded gilt nineteen-hundreds. Then -the valley of ashes opened out on both sides of us, and I had a glimpse -of Mrs. Wilson straining at the garage pump with panting vitality as we -went by. - -With fenders spread like wings we scattered light through half -Astoria--only half, for as we twisted among the pillars of the -elevated I heard the familiar "jug--jug--SPAT!" of a motor cycle, and a -frantic policeman rode alongside. - -"All right, old sport," called Gatsby. We slowed down. Taking a white -card from his wallet he waved it before the man's eyes. - -"Right you are," agreed the policeman, tipping his cap. "Know you next -time, Mr. Gatsby. Excuse ME!" - -"What was that?" I inquired. "The picture of Oxford?" - -"I was able to do the commissioner a favor once, and he sends me a -Christmas card every year." - -Over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a -constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the -river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of -non-olfactory money. The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always -the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the -mystery and the beauty in the world. - -A dead man passed us in a hearse heaped with blooms, followed by two -carriages with drawn blinds and by more cheerful carriages for -friends. The friends looked out at us with the tragic eyes and short -upper lips of south-eastern Europe, and I was glad that the sight of -Gatsby's splendid car was included in their somber holiday. As we -crossed Blackwell's Island a limousine passed us, driven by a white -chauffeur, in which sat three modish Negroes, two bucks and a girl. I -laughed aloud as the yolks of their eyeballs rolled toward us in -haughty rivalry. - -"Anything can happen now that we've slid over this bridge," I thought; -"anything at all. . . ." - -Even Gatsby could happen, without any particular wonder. - - -Roaring noon. In a well-fanned Forty-second Street cellar I met Gatsby -for lunch. Blinking away the brightness of the street outside my eyes -picked him out obscurely in the anteroom, talking to another man. - -"Mr. Carraway this is my friend Mr. Wolfshiem." - -A small, flat-nosed Jew raised his large head and regarded me with two -fine growths of hair which luxuriated in either nostril. After a moment I -discovered his tiny eyes in the half darkness. - -"--so I took one look at him--" said Mr. Wolfshiem, shaking my hand -earnestly, "--and what do you think I did?" - -"What?" I inquired politely. - -But evidently he was not addressing me for he dropped my hand and -covered Gatsby with his expressive nose. - -"I handed the money to Katspaugh and I sid, 'All right, Katspaugh, -don't pay him a penny till he shuts his mouth.' He shut it then and -there." - -Gatsby took an arm of each of us and moved forward into the -restaurant whereupon Mr. Wolfshiem swallowed a new sentence he was -starting and lapsed into a somnambulatory abstraction. - -"Highballs?" asked the head waiter. - -"This is a nice restaurant here," said Mr. Wolfshiem looking at the -Presbyterian nymphs on the ceiling. "But I like across the street better!" - -"Yes, highballs," agreed Gatsby, and then to Mr. Wolfshiem: "It's too hot -over there." - -"Hot and small--yes," said Mr. Wolfshiem, "but full of memories." - -"What place is that?" I asked. - -"The old Metropole. - -"The old Metropole," brooded Mr. Wolfshiem gloomily. "Filled with faces -dead and gone. Filled with friends gone now forever. I can't forget so -long as I live the night they shot Rosy Rosenthal there. It was six of us -at the table and Rosy had eat and drunk a lot all evening. When it was -almost morning the waiter came up to him with a funny look and says -somebody wants to speak to him outside. 'All right,' says Rosy and begins -to get up and I pulled him down in his chair. - -" 'Let the bastards come in here if they want you, Rosy, but don't you, -so help me, move outside this room.' - -"It was four o'clock in the morning then, and if we'd of raised the blinds -we'd of seen daylight." - -"Did he go?" I asked innocently. - -"Sure he went,"--Mr. Wolfshiem's nose flashed at me indignantly--"He -turned around in the door and says, 'Don't let that waiter take away -my coffee!' Then he went out on the sidewalk and they shot him -three times in his full belly and drove away." - -"Four of them were electrocuted," I said, remembering. - -"Five with Becker." His nostrils turned to me in an interested way. -"I understand you're looking for a business gonnegtion." - -The juxtaposition of these two remarks was startling. Gatsby answered -for me: - -"Oh, no," he exclaimed, "this isn't the man!" - -"No?" Mr. Wolfshiem seemed disappointed. - -"This is just a friend. I told you we'd talk about that some other -time." - -"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Wolfshiem, "I had a wrong man." - -A succulent hash arrived, and Mr. Wolfshiem, forgetting the more -sentimental atmosphere of the old Metropole, began to eat with -ferocious delicacy. His eyes, meanwhile, roved very slowly all around the -room--he completed the arc by turning to inspect the people directly -behind. I think that, except for my presence, he would have taken one -short glance beneath our own table. - -"Look here, old sport," said Gatsby, leaning toward me, "I'm afraid I -made you a little angry this morning in the car." - -There was the smile again, but this time I held out against it. - -"I don't like mysteries," I answered. "And I don't understand why you -won't come out frankly and tell me what you want. Why has it all got to -come through Miss Baker?" - -"Oh, it's nothing underhand," he assured me. "Miss Baker's a great -sportswoman, you know, and she'd never do anything that wasn't all right." - -Suddenly he looked at his watch, jumped up and hurried from the room -leaving me with Mr. Wolfshiem at the table. - -"He has to telephone," said Mr. Wolfshiem, following him with his eyes. -"Fine fellow, isn't he? Handsome to look at and a perfect gentleman." - -"Yes." - -"He's an Oggsford man." - -"Oh!" - -"He went to Oggsford College in England. You know Oggsford College?" - -"I've heard of it." - -"It's one of the most famous colleges in the world." - -"Have you known Gatsby for a long time?" I inquired. - -"Several years," he answered in a gratified way. "I made the pleasure of -his acquaintance just after the war. But I knew I had discovered a man of -fine breeding after I talked with him an hour. I said to myself: 'There's -the kind of man you'd like to take home and introduce to your mother and -sister.' " He paused. "I see you're looking at my cuff buttons." - -I hadn't been looking at them, but I did now. They were composed of -oddly familiar pieces of ivory. - -"Finest specimens of human molars," he informed me. - -"Well!" I inspected them. "That's a very interesting idea." - -"Yeah." He flipped his sleeves up under his coat. "Yeah, Gatsby's very -careful about women. He would never so much as look at a friend's wife." - -When the subject of this instinctive trust returned to the table and sat -down Mr. Wolfshiem drank his coffee with a jerk and got to his feet. - -"I have enjoyed my lunch," he said, "and I'm going to run off from you -two young men before I outstay my welcome." - -"Don't hurry, Meyer," said Gatsby, without enthusiasm. Mr. Wolfshiem -raised his hand in a sort of benediction. - -"You're very polite but I belong to another generation," he announced -solemnly. "You sit here and discuss your sports and your young ladies and -your----" He supplied an imaginary noun with another wave of his -hand--"As for me, I am fifty years old, and I won't impose myself -on you any longer." - -As he shook hands and turned away his tragic nose was trembling. -I wondered if I had said anything to offend him. - -"He becomes very sentimental sometimes," explained Gatsby. "This is one of -his sentimental days. He's quite a character around New York--a denizen of -Broadway." - -"Who is he anyhow--an actor?" - -"No." - -"A dentist?" - -"Meyer Wolfshiem? No, he's a gambler." Gatsby hesitated, then added -coolly: "He's the man who fixed the World's Series back in 1919." - -"Fixed the World's Series?" I repeated. - -The idea staggered me. I remembered of course that the World's Series -had been fixed in 1919 but if I had thought of it at all I would have -thought of it as a thing that merely HAPPENED, the end of some -inevitable chain. It never occurred to me that one man could start to -play with the faith of fifty million people--with the single-mindedness -of a burglar blowing a safe. - -"How did he happen to do that?" I asked after a minute. - -"He just saw the opportunity." - -"Why isn't he in jail?" - -"They can't get him, old sport. He's a smart man." - -I insisted on paying the check. As the waiter brought my change I caught -sight of Tom Buchanan across the crowded room. - -"Come along with me for a minute," I said. "I've got to say hello -to someone." - -When he saw us Tom jumped up and took half a dozen steps in our -direction. - -"Where've you been?" he demanded eagerly. "Daisy's furious because you -haven't called up." - -"This is Mr. Gatsby, Mr. Buchanan." - -They shook hands briefly and a strained, unfamiliar look of embarrassment -came over Gatsby's face. - -"How've you been, anyhow?" demanded Tom of me. "How'd you happen to come -up this far to eat?" - -"I've been having lunch with Mr. Gatsby." - -I turned toward Mr. Gatsby, but he was no longer there. - - -One October day in nineteen-seventeen---- -(said Jordan Baker that afternoon, sitting up very straight on a straight -chair in the tea-garden at the Plaza Hotel) ---I was walking along from one place to another half on the sidewalks and -half on the lawns. I was happier on the lawns because I had on shoes from -England with rubber nobs on the soles that bit into the soft ground. -I had on a new plaid skirt also that blew a little in the wind and -whenever this happened the red, white and blue banners in front of all -the houses stretched out stiff and said TUT-TUT-TUT-TUT in a disapproving -way. - -The largest of the banners and the largest of the lawns belonged to -Daisy Fay's house. She was just eighteen, two years older than me, and -by far the most popular of all the young girls in Louisville. She -dressed in white, and had a little white roadster and all day long -the telephone rang in her house and excited young officers from Camp -Taylor demanded the privilege of monopolizing her that night, "anyways, -for an hour!" - -When I came opposite her house that morning her white roadster was beside -the curb, and she was sitting in it with a lieutenant I had never seen -before. They were so engrossed in each other that she didn't see me until -I was five feet away. - -"Hello Jordan," she called unexpectedly. "Please come here." - -I was flattered that she wanted to speak to me, because of all the older -girls I admired her most. She asked me if I was going to the Red Cross and -make bandages. I was. Well, then, would I tell them that she couldn't come -that day? The officer looked at Daisy while she was speaking, in a way -that every young girl wants to be looked at sometime, and because it -seemed romantic to me I have remembered the incident ever since. His name -was Jay Gatsby and I didn't lay eyes on him again for over four -years--even after I'd met him on Long Island I didn't realize it was the -same man. - -That was nineteen-seventeen. By the next year I had a few beaux myself, -and I began to play in tournaments, so I didn't see Daisy very often. -She went with a slightly older crowd--when she went with anyone at all. -Wild rumors were circulating about her--how her mother had found her -packing her bag one winter night to go to New York and say goodbye to a -soldier who was going overseas. She was effectually prevented, but she -wasn't on speaking terms with her family for several weeks. After -that she didn't play around with the soldiers any more but only -with a few flat-footed, short-sighted young men in town who couldn't -get into the army at all. - -By the next autumn she was gay again, gay as ever. She had a debut -after the Armistice, and in February she was presumably engaged to a -man from New Orleans. In June she married Tom Buchanan of Chicago with -more pomp and circumstance than Louisville ever knew before. He came -down with a hundred people in four private cars and hired a whole -floor of the Seelbach Hotel, and the day before the wedding he gave her -a string of pearls valued at three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. - -I was bridesmaid. I came into her room half an hour before the bridal -dinner, and found her lying on her bed as lovely as the June night in -her flowered dress--and as drunk as a monkey. She had a bottle of -sauterne in one hand and a letter in the other. - -" 'Gratulate me," she muttered. "Never had a drink before but oh, how I do -enjoy it." - -"What's the matter, Daisy?" - -I was scared, I can tell you; I'd never seen a girl like that before. - -"Here, dearis." She groped around in a waste-basket she had with her -on the bed and pulled out the string of pearls. "Take 'em downstairs and -give 'em back to whoever they belong to. Tell 'em all Daisy's change' her -mine. Say 'Daisy's change' her mine!'." - -She began to cry--she cried and cried. I rushed out and found her -mother's maid and we locked the door and got her into a cold bath. She -wouldn't let go of the letter. She took it into the tub with her and -squeezed it up into a wet ball, and only let me leave it in the -soap dish when she saw that it was coming to pieces like snow. - -But she didn't say another word. We gave her spirits of ammonia and put -ice on her forehead and hooked her back into her dress and half an -hour later when we walked out of the room the pearls were around her -neck and the incident was over. Next day at five o'clock she married Tom -Buchanan without so much as a shiver and started off on a three months' -trip to the South Seas. - -I saw them in Santa Barbara when they came back and I thought I'd -never seen a girl so mad about her husband. If he left the room for a -minute she'd look around uneasily and say "Where's Tom gone?" and -wear the most abstracted expression until she saw him coming in the -door. She used to sit on the sand with his head in her lap by the hour -rubbing her fingers over his eyes and looking at him with unfathomable -delight. It was touching to see them together--it made you laugh in a -hushed, fascinated way. That was in August. A week after I left Santa -Barbara Tom ran into a wagon on the Ventura road one night and ripped -a front wheel off his car. The girl who was with him got into the -papers too because her arm was broken--she was one of the chambermaids -in the Santa Barbara Hotel. - -The next April Daisy had her little girl and they went to France for a -year. I saw them one spring in Cannes and later in Deauville and then -they came back to Chicago to settle down. Daisy was popular in Chicago, -as you know. They moved with a fast crowd, all of them young and rich -and wild, but she came out with an absolutely perfect reputation. -Perhaps because she doesn't drink. It's a great advantage not to drink -among hard-drinking people. You can hold your tongue and, moreover, -you can time any little irregularity of your own so that everybody else -is so blind that they don't see or care. Perhaps Daisy never went in -for amour at all--and yet there's something in that voice of hers. . . . - -Well, about six weeks ago, she heard the name Gatsby for the first time -in years. It was when I asked you--do you remember?--if you knew Gatsby -in West Egg. After you had gone home she came into my room and woke me -up, and said "What Gatsby?" and when I described him--I was half -asleep--she said in the strangest voice that it must be the man she used -to know. It wasn't until then that I connected this Gatsby with the -officer in her white car. - - -When Jordan Baker had finished telling all this we had left the Plaza -for half an hour and were driving in a Victoria through Central Park. -The sun had gone down behind the tall apartments of the movie stars in -the West Fifties and the clear voices of girls, already gathered like -crickets on the grass, rose through the hot twilight: - - - "I'm the Sheik of Araby, - Your love belongs to me. - At night when you're are asleep, - Into your tent I'll creep----" - - -"It was a strange coincidence," I said. - -"But it wasn't a coincidence at all." - -"Why not?" - -"Gatsby bought that house so that Daisy would be just across the bay." - -Then it had not been merely the stars to which he had aspired -on that June night. He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the -womb of his purposeless splendor. - -"He wants to know--" continued Jordan "--if you'll invite Daisy to your -house some afternoon and then let him come over." - -The modesty of the demand shook me. He had waited five years and bought a -mansion where he dispensed starlight to casual moths so that he could -"come over" some afternoon to a stranger's garden. - -"Did I have to know all this before he could ask such a little thing?" - -"He's afraid. He's waited so long. He thought you might be offended. -You see he's a regular tough underneath it all." - -Something worried me. - -"Why didn't he ask you to arrange a meeting?" - -"He wants her to see his house," she explained. "And your house is right -next door." - -"Oh!" - -"I think he half expected her to wander into one of his parties, -some night," went on Jordan, "but she never did. Then he began asking -people casually if they knew her, and I was the first one he found. -It was that night he sent for me at his dance, and you should have -heard the elaborate way he worked up to it. Of course, I immediately -suggested a luncheon in New York--and I thought he'd go mad: - -" 'I don't want to do anything out of the way!' he kept saying. 'I want to -see her right next door.' - -"When I said you were a particular friend of Tom's he started to abandon -the whole idea. He doesn't know very much about Tom, though he says he's -read a Chicago paper for years just on the chance of catching a glimpse -of Daisy's name." - -It was dark now, and as we dipped under a little bridge I put my arm -around Jordan's golden shoulder and drew her toward me and asked her to -dinner. Suddenly I wasn't thinking of Daisy and Gatsby any more but of -this clean, hard, limited person who dealt in universal skepticism and -who leaned back jauntily just within the circle of my arm. A phrase began -to beat in my ears with a sort of heady excitement: "There are only the -pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired." - -"And Daisy ought to have something in her life," murmured Jordan to me. - -"Does she want to see Gatsby?" - -"She's not to know about it. Gatsby doesn't want her to know. You're -just supposed to invite her to tea." - -We passed a barrier of dark trees, and then the facade of Fifty-ninth -Street, a block of delicate pale light, beamed down into the park. -Unlike Gatsby and Tom Buchanan I had no girl whose disembodied face -floated along the dark cornices and blinding signs and so I drew up the -girl beside me, tightening my arms. Her wan, scornful mouth smiled and so -I drew her up again, closer, this time to my face. - - - - -Chapter 5 - - - -When I came home to West Egg that night I was afraid for a moment that -my house was on fire. Two o'clock and the whole corner of the peninsula -was blazing with light which fell unreal on the shrubbery and made thin -elongating glints upon the roadside wires. Turning a corner I saw that it -was Gatsby's house, lit from tower to cellar. - -At first I thought it was another party, a wild rout that had resolved -itself into "hide-and-go-seek" or "sardines-in-the-box" with all the -house thrown open to the game. But there wasn't a sound. Only wind in -the trees which blew the wires and made the lights go off and on again -as if the house had winked into the darkness. As my taxi groaned away I -saw Gatsby walking toward me across his lawn. - -"Your place looks like the world's fair," I said. - -"Does it?" He turned his eyes toward it absently. "I have been glancing -into some of the rooms. Let's go to Coney Island, old sport. In my car." - -"It's too late." - -"Well, suppose we take a plunge in the swimming pool? I haven't made use -of it all summer." - -"I've got to go to bed." - -"All right." - -He waited, looking at me with suppressed eagerness. - -"I talked with Miss Baker," I said after a moment. "I'm going to call up -Daisy tomorrow and invite her over here to tea." - -"Oh, that's all right," he said carelessly. "I don't want to put you to -any trouble." - -"What day would suit you?" - -"What day would suit YOU?" he corrected me quickly. "I don't want to put -you to any trouble, you see." - -"How about the day after tomorrow?" He considered for a moment. Then, -with reluctance: - -"I want to get the grass cut," he said. - -We both looked at the grass--there was a sharp line where my ragged lawn -ended and the darker, well-kept expanse of his began. I suspected that -he meant my grass. - -"There's another little thing," he said uncertainly, and hesitated. - -"Would you rather put it off for a few days?" I asked. - -"Oh, it isn't about that. At least----" He fumbled with a series of -beginnings. "Why, I thought--why, look here, old sport, you don't make -much money, do you?" - -"Not very much." - -This seemed to reassure him and he continued more confidently. - -"I thought you didn't, if you'll pardon my--you see, I carry on a -little business on the side, a sort of sideline, you understand. And I -thought that if you don't make very much--You're selling bonds, aren't -you, old sport?" - -"Trying to." - -"Well, this would interest you. It wouldn't take up much of your -time and you might pick up a nice bit of money. It happens to be -a rather confidential sort of thing." - -I realize now that under different circumstances that conversation might -have been one of the crises of my life. But, because the offer was -obviously and tactlessly for a service to be rendered, I had no choice -except to cut him off there. - -"I've got my hands full," I said. "I'm much obliged but I couldn't take -on any more work." - -"You wouldn't have to do any business with Wolfshiem." Evidently he -thought that I was shying away from the "gonnegtion" mentioned at lunch, -but I assured him he was wrong. He waited a moment longer, hoping I'd -begin a conversation, but I was too absorbed to be responsive, so he went -unwillingly home. - -The evening had made me light-headed and happy; I think I walked into a -deep sleep as I entered my front door. So I didn't know whether or not -Gatsby went to Coney Island or for how many hours he "glanced into -rooms" while his house blazed gaudily on. I called up Daisy from the -office next morning and invited her to come to tea. - -"Don't bring Tom," I warned her. - -"What?" - -"Don't bring Tom." - -"Who is 'Tom'?" she asked innocently. - -The day agreed upon was pouring rain. At eleven o'clock a man in a -raincoat dragging a lawn-mower tapped at my front door and said that -Mr. Gatsby had sent him over to cut my grass. This reminded me that I -had forgotten to tell my Finn to come back so I drove into West Egg -Village to search for her among soggy white-washed alleys and to buy -some cups and lemons and flowers. - -The flowers were unnecessary, for at two o'clock a greenhouse arrived -from Gatsby's, with innumerable receptacles to contain it. An hour -later the front door opened nervously, and Gatsby in a white flannel -suit, silver shirt and gold-colored tie hurried in. He was pale and -there were dark signs of sleeplessness beneath his eyes. - -"Is everything all right?" he asked immediately. - -"The grass looks fine, if that's what you mean." - -"What grass?" he inquired blankly. "Oh, the grass in the yard." He looked -out the window at it, but judging from his expression I don't believe -he saw a thing. - -"Looks very good," he remarked vaguely. "One of the papers said they -thought the rain would stop about four. I think it was 'The Journal.' Have -you got everything you need in the shape of--of tea?" - -I took him into the pantry where he looked a little reproachfully at the -Finn. Together we scrutinized the twelve lemon cakes from the delicatessen -shop. - -"Will they do?" I asked. - -"Of course, of course! They're fine!" and he added hollowly, ". . .old -sport." - -The rain cooled about half-past three to a damp mist through which -occasional thin drops swam like dew. Gatsby looked with vacant eyes -through a copy of Clay's "Economics," starting at the Finnish tread that -shook the kitchen floor and peering toward the bleared windows from time -to time as if a series of invisible but alarming happenings were taking -place outside. Finally he got up and informed me in an uncertain voice -that he was going home. - -"Why's that?" - -"Nobody's coming to tea. It's too late!" He looked at his watch as if -there was some pressing demand on his time elsewhere. "I can't wait -all day." - -"Don't be silly; it's just two minutes to four." - -He sat down, miserably, as if I had pushed him, and simultaneously there -was the sound of a motor turning into my lane. We both jumped up and, -a little harrowed myself, I went out into the yard. - -Under the dripping bare lilac trees a large open car was coming up the -drive. It stopped. Daisy's face, tipped sideways beneath a -three-cornered lavender hat, looked out at me with a bright ecstatic -smile. - -"Is this absolutely where you live, my dearest one?" - -The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain. I had -to follow the sound of it for a moment, up and down, with my ear alone -before any words came through. A damp streak of hair lay like a dash of -blue paint across her cheek and her hand was wet with glistening drops as -I took it to help her from the car. - -"Are you in love with me," she said low in my ear. "Or why did I have -to come alone?" - -"That's the secret of Castle Rackrent. Tell your chauffeur to go far -away and spend an hour." - -"Come back in an hour, Ferdie." Then in a grave murmur, "His name is -Ferdie." - -"Does the gasoline affect his nose?" - -"I don't think so," she said innocently. "Why?" - -We went in. To my overwhelming surprise the living room was deserted. - -"Well, that's funny!" I exclaimed. - -"What's funny?" - -She turned her head as there was a light, dignified knocking at the front -door. I went out and opened it. Gatsby, pale as death, with his hands -plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of -water glaring tragically into my eyes. - -With his hands still in his coat pockets he stalked by me into the -hall, turned sharply as if he were on a wire and disappeared into the -living room. It wasn't a bit funny. Aware of the loud beating of my own -heart I pulled the door to against the increasing rain. - -For half a minute there wasn't a sound. Then from the living room I -heard a sort of choking murmur and part of a laugh followed by Daisy's -voice on a clear artificial note. - -"I certainly am awfully glad to see you again." - -A pause; it endured horribly. I had nothing to do in the hall so I went -into the room. - -Gatsby, his hands still in his pockets, was reclining against the -mantelpiece in a strained counterfeit of perfect ease, even of boredom. -His head leaned back so far that it rested against the face of a -defunct mantelpiece clock and from this position his distraught eyes -stared down at Daisy who was sitting frightened but graceful on the -edge of a stiff chair. - -"We've met before," muttered Gatsby. His eyes glanced momentarily at -me and his lips parted with an abortive attempt at a laugh. Luckily -the clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his -head, whereupon he turned and caught it with trembling fingers and set -it back in place. Then he sat down, rigidly, his elbow on the arm of the -sofa and his chin in his hand. - -"I'm sorry about the clock," he said. - -My own face had now assumed a deep tropical burn. I couldn't muster up -a single commonplace out of the thousand in my head. - -"It's an old clock," I told them idiotically. - -I think we all believed for a moment that it had smashed in pieces on -the floor. - -"We haven't met for many years," said Daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact -as it could ever be. - -"Five years next November." - -The automatic quality of Gatsby's answer set us all back at least another -minute. I had them both on their feet with the desperate suggestion that -they help me make tea in the kitchen when the demoniac Finn brought it in -on a tray. - -Amid the welcome confusion of cups and cakes a certain physical decency -established itself. Gatsby got himself into a shadow and while Daisy -and I talked looked conscientiously from one to the other of us with -tense unhappy eyes. However, as calmness wasn't an end in itself I -made an excuse at the first possible moment and got to my feet. - -"Where are you going?" demanded Gatsby in immediate alarm. - -"I'll be back." - -"I've got to speak to you about something before you go." - -He followed me wildly into the kitchen, closed the door and whispered: -"Oh, God!" in a miserable way. - -"What's the matter?" - -"This is a terrible mistake," he said, shaking his head from side to -side, "a terrible, terrible mistake." - -"You're just embarrassed, that's all," and luckily I added: "Daisy's -embarrassed too." - -"She's embarrassed?" he repeated incredulously. - -"Just as much as you are." - -"Don't talk so loud." - -"You're acting like a little boy," I broke out impatiently. "Not only -that but you're rude. Daisy's sitting in there all alone." - - -He raised his hand to stop my words, looked at me with unforgettable -reproach and opening the door cautiously went back into the other room. - -I walked out the back way--just as Gatsby had when he had made his -nervous circuit of the house half an hour before--and ran for a huge -black knotted tree whose massed leaves made a fabric against the rain. -Once more it was pouring and my irregular lawn, well-shaved by -Gatsby's gardener, abounded in small muddy swamps and prehistoric -marshes. There was nothing to look at from under the tree except -Gatsby's enormous house, so I stared at it, like Kant at his church -steeple, for half an hour. A brewer had built it early in the "period" -craze, a decade before, and there was a story that he'd agreed to pay -five years' taxes on all the neighboring cottages if the owners would -have their roofs thatched with straw. Perhaps their refusal took the -heart out of his plan to Found a Family--he went into an immediate -decline. His children sold his house with the black wreath still on the -door. Americans, while occasionally willing to be serfs, have always -been obstinate about being peasantry. - -After half an hour the sun shone again and the grocer's automobile -rounded Gatsby's drive with the raw material for his servants' dinner--I -felt sure he wouldn't eat a spoonful. A maid began opening the upper -windows of his house, appeared momentarily in each, and, leaning from a -large central bay, spat meditatively into the garden. It was time I -went back. While the rain continued it had seemed like the murmur of -their voices, rising and swelling a little, now and then, with gusts of -emotion. But in the new silence I felt that silence had fallen within -the house too. - -I went in--after making every possible noise in the kitchen short of -pushing over the stove--but I don't believe they heard a sound. They -were sitting at either end of the couch looking at each other as if -some question had been asked or was in the air, and every vestige of -embarrassment was gone. Daisy's face was smeared with tears and when I -came in she jumped up and began wiping at it with her handkerchief before -a mirror. But there was a change in Gatsby that was simply confounding. -He literally glowed; without a word or a gesture of exultation a new -well-being radiated from him and filled the little room. - -"Oh, hello, old sport," he said, as if he hadn't seen me for years. I -thought for a moment he was going to shake hands. - -"It's stopped raining." - -"Has it?" When he realized what I was talking about, that there were -twinkle-bells of sunshine in the room, he smiled like a weather man, -like an ecstatic patron of recurrent light, and repeated the news to -Daisy. "What do you think of that? It's stopped raining." - -"I'm glad, Jay." Her throat, full of aching, grieving beauty, told only -of her unexpected joy. - -"I want you and Daisy to come over to my house," he said, "I'd like to -show her around." - -"You're sure you want me to come?" - -"Absolutely, old sport." - -Daisy went upstairs to wash her face--too late I thought with humiliation -of my towels--while Gatsby and I waited on the lawn. - -"My house looks well, doesn't it?" he demanded. "See how the whole -front of it catches the light." - -I agreed that it was splendid. - -"Yes." His eyes went over it, every arched door and square tower. "It took -me just three years to earn the money that bought it." - -"I thought you inherited your money." - -"I did, old sport," he said automatically, "but I lost most of it in -the big panic--the panic of the war." - -I think he hardly knew what he was saying, for when I asked him what -business he was in he answered "That's my affair," before he realized -that it wasn't the appropriate reply. - -"Oh, I've been in several things," he corrected himself. "I was in the -drug business and then I was in the oil business. But I'm not in either -one now." He looked at me with more attention. "Do you mean you've been -thinking over what I proposed the other night?" - -Before I could answer, Daisy came out of the house and two rows of brass -buttons on her dress gleamed in the sunlight. - -"That huge place THERE?" she cried pointing. - -"Do you like it?" - -"I love it, but I don't see how you live there all alone." - -"I keep it always full of interesting people, night and day. People who -do interesting things. Celebrated people." - -Instead of taking the short cut along the Sound we went down the road and -entered by the big postern. With enchanting murmurs Daisy admired this -aspect or that of the feudal silhouette against the sky, admired the -gardens, the sparkling odor of jonquils and the frothy odor of hawthorn -and plum blossoms and the pale gold odor of kiss-me-at-the-gate. -It was strange to reach the marble steps and find no stir of bright -dresses in and out the door, and hear no sound but bird voices in the -trees. - -And inside as we wandered through Marie Antoinette music rooms and -Restoration salons I felt that there were guests concealed behind -every couch and table, under orders to be breathlessly silent until we -had passed through. As Gatsby closed the door of "the Merton College -Library" I could have sworn I heard the owl-eyed man break into -ghostly laughter. - -We went upstairs, through period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender -silk and vivid with new flowers, through dressing rooms and poolrooms, -and bathrooms with sunken baths--intruding into one chamber where a -dishevelled man in pajamas was doing liver exercises on the floor. It -was Mr. Klipspringer, the "boarder." I had seen him wandering hungrily -about the beach that morning. Finally we came to Gatsby's own apartment, -a bedroom and a bath and an Adam study, where we sat down and drank a -glass of some Chartreuse he took from a cupboard in the wall. - -He hadn't once ceased looking at Daisy and I think he revalued -everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew -from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared around at his -possessions in a dazed way as though in her actual and astounding -presence none of it was any longer real. Once he nearly toppled down a -flight of stairs. - -His bedroom was the simplest room of all--except where the dresser was -garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold. Daisy took the brush -with delight and smoothed her hair, whereupon Gatsby sat down and -shaded his eyes and began to laugh. - -"It's the funniest thing, old sport," he said hilariously. "I can't--when -I try to----" - -He had passed visibly through two states and was entering upon a third. -After his embarrassment and his unreasoning joy he was consumed with -wonder at her presence. He had been full of the idea so long, dreamed it -right through to the end, waited with his teeth set, so to speak, at an -inconceivable pitch of intensity. Now, in the reaction, he was running -down like an overwound clock. - -Recovering himself in a minute he opened for us two hulking patent -cabinets which held his massed suits and dressing-gowns and ties, and -his shirts, piled like bricks in stacks a dozen high. - -"I've got a man in England who buys me clothes. He sends over a selection -of things at the beginning of each season, spring and fall." - -He took out a pile of shirts and began throwing them, one by one -before us, shirts of sheer linen and thick silk and fine flannel -which lost their folds as they fell and covered the table in -many-colored disarray. While we admired he brought more and the soft -rich heap mounted higher--shirts with stripes and scrolls and plaids in -coral and apple-green and lavender and faint orange with monograms of -Indian blue. Suddenly with a strained sound, Daisy bent her head into -the shirts and began to cry stormily. - -"They're such beautiful shirts," she sobbed, her voice muffled in the -thick folds. "It makes me sad because I've never seen such--such beautiful -shirts before." - - -After the house, we were to see the grounds and the swimming pool, and the -hydroplane and the midsummer flowers--but outside Gatsby's window it -began to rain again so we stood in a row looking at the corrugated -surface of the Sound. - -"If it wasn't for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said -Gatsby. "You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of -your dock." - -Daisy put her arm through his abruptly but he seemed absorbed -in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the -colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared -to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed -very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star -to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of -enchanted objects had diminished by one. - -I began to walk about the room, examining various indefinite objects in -the half darkness. A large photograph of an elderly man in yachting -costume attracted me, hung on the wall over his desk. - -"Who's this?" - -"That? That's Mr. Dan Cody, old sport." - -The name sounded faintly familiar. - -"He's dead now. He used to be my best friend years ago." - -There was a small picture of Gatsby, also in yachting costume, on the -bureau--Gatsby with his head thrown back defiantly--taken apparently -when he was about eighteen. - -"I adore it!" exclaimed Daisy. "The pompadour! You never told me you had -a pompadour--or a yacht." - -"Look at this," said Gatsby quickly. "Here's a lot of clippings--about -you." - -They stood side by side examining it. I was going to ask to see the rubies -when the phone rang and Gatsby took up the receiver. - -"Yes. . . . Well, I can't talk now. . . . I can't talk now, old -sport. . . . I said a SMALL town. . . . He must know what a small town -is. . . . Well, he's no use to us if Detroit is his idea of a small -town. . . ." - -He rang off. - -"Come here QUICK!" cried Daisy at the window. - -The rain was still falling, but the darkness had parted in the west, -and there was a pink and golden billow of foamy clouds above the sea. - -"Look at that," she whispered, and then after a moment: "I'd like to -just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you -around." - -I tried to go then, but they wouldn't hear of it; perhaps my presence -made them feel more satisfactorily alone. - -"I know what we'll do," said Gatsby, "we'll have Klipspringer play the -piano." - -He went out of the room calling "Ewing!" and returned in a few -minutes accompanied by an embarrassed, slightly worn young man with -shell-rimmed glasses and scanty blonde hair. He was now decently clothed -in a "sport shirt" open at the neck, sneakers and duck trousers of a -nebulous hue. - -"Did we interrupt your exercises?" inquired Daisy politely. - -"I was asleep," cried Mr. Klipspringer, in a spasm of embarrassment. -"That is, I'd BEEN asleep. Then I got up. . . ." - -"Klipspringer plays the piano," said Gatsby, cutting him off. "Don't you, -Ewing, old sport?" - -"I don't play well. I don't--I hardly play at all. I'm all out of -prac----" - -"We'll go downstairs," interrupted Gatsby. He flipped a switch. The -grey windows disappeared as the house glowed full of light. - -In the music room Gatsby turned on a solitary lamp beside the piano. He -lit Daisy's cigarette from a trembling match, and sat down with her on -a couch far across the room where there was no light save what the -gleaming floor bounced in from the hall. - -When Klipspringer had played "The Love Nest" he turned around on the -bench and searched unhappily for Gatsby in the gloom. - -"I'm all out of practice, you see. I told you I couldn't play. I'm all -out of prac----" - -"Don't talk so much, old sport," commanded Gatsby. "Play!" - - - IN THE MORNING, - IN THE EVENING, - AIN'T WE GOT FUN---- - -Outside the wind was loud and there was a faint flow of thunder along the -Sound. All the lights were going on in West Egg now; the electric trains, -men-carrying, were plunging home through the rain from New York. It was -the hour of a profound human change, and excitement was generating on -the air. - - - ONE THING'S SURE AND NOTHING'S SURER - THE RICH GET RICHER AND THE POOR GET--CHILDREN. - IN THE MEANTIME, - IN BETWEEN TIME---- - - -As I went over to say goodbye I saw that the expression of bewilderment -had come back into Gatsby's face, as though a faint doubt had occurred to -him as to the quality of his present happiness. Almost five -years! There must have been moments even that afternoon when -Daisy tumbled short of his dreams--not through her own fault but -because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond -her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative -passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright -feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can -challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart. - -As I watched him he adjusted himself a little, visibly. His hand took -hold of hers and as she said something low in his ear he turned toward -her with a rush of emotion. I think that voice held him most with its -fluctuating, feverish warmth because it couldn't be over-dreamed--that -voice was a deathless song. - -They had forgotten me, but Daisy glanced up and held out her hand; -Gatsby didn't know me now at all. I looked once more at them and they -looked back at me, remotely, possessed by intense life. Then I went out -of the room and down the marble steps into the rain, leaving them there -together. - - - - -Chapter 6 - - - -About this time an ambitious young reporter from New York arrived one -morning at Gatsby's door and asked him if he had anything to say. - -"Anything to say about what?" inquired Gatsby politely. - -"Why,--any statement to give out." - -It transpired after a confused five minutes that the man had heard -Gatsby's name around his office in a connection which he either -wouldn't reveal or didn't fully understand. This was his day off -and with laudable initiative he had hurried out "to see." - -It was a random shot, and yet the reporter's instinct was right. Gatsby's -notoriety, spread about by the hundreds who had accepted his -hospitality and so become authorities on his past, had increased -all summer until he fell just short of being news. Contemporary -legends such as the "underground pipe-line to Canada" attached -themselves to him, and there was one persistent story that he -didn't live in a house at all, but in a boat that looked like a house -and was moved secretly up and down the Long Island shore. Just why -these inventions were a source of satisfaction to James Gatz of North -Dakota, isn't easy to say. - -James Gatz--that was really, or at least legally, his name. He had -changed it at the age of seventeen and at the specific moment that -witnessed the beginning of his career--when he saw Dan Cody's yacht drop -anchor over the most insidious flat on Lake Superior. It was James Gatz -who had been loafing along the beach that afternoon in a torn green -jersey and a pair of canvas pants, but it was already Jay Gatsby who -borrowed a row-boat, pulled out to the TUOLOMEE and informed Cody that -a wind might catch him and break him up in half an hour. - -I suppose he'd had the name ready for a long time, even then. His -parents were shiftless and unsuccessful farm people--his imagination had -never really accepted them as his parents at all. The truth was that -Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic -conception of himself. He was a son of God--a phrase which, if it means -anything, means just that--and he must be about His Father's Business, -the service of a vast, vulgar and meretricious beauty. So he invented -just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen-year-old boy would be -likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end. - -For over a year he had been beating his way along the south shore of -Lake Superior as a clam digger and a salmon fisher or in any other -capacity that brought him food and bed. His brown, hardening body lived -naturally through the half fierce, half lazy work of the bracing days. -He knew women early and since they spoiled him he became contemptuous -of them, of young virgins because they were ignorant, of the others -because they were hysterical about things which in his overwhelming -self-absorption he took for granted. - -But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot. The most grotesque -and fantastic conceits haunted him in his bed at night. A universe -of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain while the -clock ticked on the wash-stand and the moon soaked with wet -light his tangled clothes upon the floor. Each night he added to the -pattern of his fancies until drowsiness closed down upon some vivid -scene with an oblivious embrace. For a while these reveries provided an -outlet for his imagination; they were a satisfactory hint of the -unreality of reality, a promise that the rock of the world was founded -securely on a fairy's wing. - -An instinct toward his future glory had led him, some months before, to -the small Lutheran college of St. Olaf in southern Minnesota. He stayed -there two weeks, dismayed at its ferocious indifference to the drums of -his destiny, to destiny itself, and despising the janitor's work with -which he was to pay his way through. Then he drifted back to Lake -Superior, and he was still searching for something to do on the day -that Dan Cody's yacht dropped anchor in the shallows along shore. - -Cody was fifty years old then, a product of the Nevada silver fields, -of the Yukon, of every rush for metal since Seventy-five. The -transactions in Montana copper that made him many times a millionaire -found him physically robust but on the verge of soft-mindedness, and, -suspecting this an infinite number of women tried to separate him from -his money. The none too savory ramifications by which Ella Kaye, the -newspaper woman, played Madame de Maintenon to his weakness and sent him -to sea in a yacht, were common knowledge to the turgid journalism -of 1902. He had been coasting along all too hospitable shores for five -years when he turned up as James Gatz's destiny at Little Girl Bay. - -To the young Gatz, resting on his oars and looking up at the railed -deck, the yacht represented all the beauty and glamor in the world. I -suppose he smiled at Cody--he had probably discovered that people liked -him when he smiled. At any rate Cody asked him a few questions (one of -them elicited the brand new name) and found that he was quick, and -extravagantly ambitious. A few days later he took him to Duluth and -bought him a blue coat, six pair of white duck trousers and a yachting -cap. And when the TUOLOMEE left for the West Indies and the Barbary -Coast Gatsby left too. - -He was employed in a vague personal capacity--while he remained with -Cody he was in turn steward, mate, skipper, secretary, and even jailor, -for Dan Cody sober knew what lavish doings Dan Cody drunk might soon be -about and he provided for such contingencies by reposing more and more -trust in Gatsby. The arrangement lasted five years during which the -boat went three times around the continent. It might have lasted -indefinitely except for the fact that Ella Kaye came on board one night -in Boston and a week later Dan Cody inhospitably died. - -I remember the portrait of him up in Gatsby's bedroom, a grey, florid -man with a hard empty face--the pioneer debauchee who during one phase -of American life brought back to the eastern seaboard the savage -violence of the frontier brothel and saloon. It was indirectly due to -Cody that Gatsby drank so little. Sometimes in the course of gay parties -women used to rub champagne into his hair; for himself he formed the -habit of letting liquor alone. - -And it was from Cody that he inherited money--a legacy of twenty-five -thousand dollars. He didn't get it. He never understood the legal -device that was used against him but what remained of the millions -went intact to Ella Kaye. He was left with his singularly appropriate -education; the vague contour of Jay Gatsby had filled out to the -substantiality of a man. - - -He told me all this very much later, but I've put it down here with the -idea of exploding those first wild rumors about his antecedents, which -weren't even faintly true. Moreover he told it to me at a time of -confusion, when I had reached the point of believing everything and -nothing about him. So I take advantage of this short halt, while -Gatsby, so to speak, caught his breath, to clear this set of -misconceptions away. - -It was a halt, too, in my association with his affairs. For -several weeks I didn't see him or hear his voice on the phone--mostly -I was in New York, trotting around with Jordan and trying to -ingratiate myself with her senile aunt--but finally I went over to -his house one Sunday afternoon. I hadn't been there two minutes when -somebody brought Tom Buchanan in for a drink. I was startled, -naturally, but the really surprising thing was that it hadn't happened -before. - -They were a party of three on horseback--Tom and a man named Sloane and -a pretty woman in a brown riding habit who had been there previously. - -"I'm delighted to see you," said Gatsby standing on his porch. -"I'm delighted that you dropped in." - -As though they cared! - -"Sit right down. Have a cigarette or a cigar." He walked around the room -quickly, ringing bells. "I'll have something to drink for you in just -a minute." - -He was profoundly affected by the fact that Tom was there. But he would be -uneasy anyhow until he had given them something, realizing in a vague -way that that was all they came for. Mr. Sloane wanted nothing. A -lemonade? No, thanks. A little champagne? Nothing at all, -thanks. . . . I'm sorry---- - -"Did you have a nice ride?" - -"Very good roads around here." - -"I suppose the automobiles----" - -"Yeah." - -Moved by an irresistible impulse, Gatsby turned to Tom who had accepted -the introduction as a stranger. - -"I believe we've met somewhere before, Mr. Buchanan." - -"Oh, yes," said Tom, gruffly polite but obviously not remembering. -"So we did. I remember very well." - -"About two weeks ago." - -"That's right. You were with Nick here." - -"I know your wife," continued Gatsby, almost aggressively. - -"That so?" - -Tom turned to me. - -"You live near here, Nick?" - -"Next door." - -"That so?" - -Mr. Sloane didn't enter into the conversation but lounged back haughtily -in his chair; the woman said nothing either--until unexpectedly, after -two highballs, she became cordial. - -"We'll all come over to your next party, Mr. Gatsby," she suggested. -"What do you say?" - -"Certainly. I'd be delighted to have you." - -"Be ver' nice," said Mr. Sloane, without gratitude. "Well--think ought to -be starting home." - -"Please don't hurry," Gatsby urged them. He had control of himself now -and he wanted to see more of Tom. "Why don't you--why don't you stay for -supper? I wouldn't be surprised if some other people dropped in from -New York." - -"You come to supper with ME," said the lady enthusiastically. -"Both of you." - -This included me. Mr. Sloane got to his feet. - -"Come along," he said--but to her only. - -"I mean it," she insisted. "I'd love to have you. Lots of room." - -Gatsby looked at me questioningly. He wanted to go and he didn't see -that Mr. Sloane had determined he shouldn't. - -"I'm afraid I won't be able to," I said. - -"Well, you come," she urged, concentrating on Gatsby. - -Mr. Sloane murmured something close to her ear. - -"We won't be late if we start now," she insisted aloud. - -"I haven't got a horse," said Gatsby. "I used to ride in the army but -I've never bought a horse. I'll have to follow you in my car. Excuse me -for just a minute." - -The rest of us walked out on the porch, where Sloane and the lady began -an impassioned conversation aside. - -"My God, I believe the man's coming," said Tom. "Doesn't he know she -doesn't want him?" - -"She says she does want him." - -"She has a big dinner party and he won't know a soul there." He frowned. -"I wonder where in the devil he met Daisy. By God, I may be -old-fashioned in my ideas, but women run around too much these days to -suit me. They meet all kinds of crazy fish." - -Suddenly Mr. Sloane and the lady walked down the steps and mounted -their horses. - -"Come on," said Mr. Sloane to Tom, "we're late. We've got to go." And then -to me: "Tell him we couldn't wait, will you?" - -Tom and I shook hands, the rest of us exchanged a cool nod and -they trotted quickly down the drive, disappearing under the August -foliage just as Gatsby with hat and light overcoat in hand came out -the front door. - -Tom was evidently perturbed at Daisy's running around alone, for on the -following Saturday night he came with her to Gatsby's party. Perhaps -his presence gave the evening its peculiar quality of oppressiveness--it -stands out in my memory from Gatsby's other parties that summer. There -were the same people, or at least the same sort of people, the same -profusion of champagne, the same many-colored, many-keyed commotion, -but I felt an unpleasantness in the air, a pervading harshness that -hadn't been there before. Or perhaps I had merely grown used to it, -grown to accept West Egg as a world complete in itself, with its own -standards and its own great figures, second to nothing because it had -no consciousness of being so, and now I was looking at it again, -through Daisy's eyes. It is invariably saddening to look through new -eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of -adjustment. - -They arrived at twilight and as we strolled out among the sparkling -hundreds Daisy's voice was playing murmurous tricks in her throat. - -"These things excite me SO," she whispered. "If you want to kiss me -any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and I'll be glad -to arrange it for you. Just mention my name. Or present a green card. -I'm giving out green----" - -"Look around," suggested Gatsby. - -"I'm looking around. I'm having a marvelous----" - -"You must see the faces of many people you've heard about." - -Tom's arrogant eyes roamed the crowd. - -"We don't go around very much," he said. "In fact I was just thinking -I don't know a soul here." - -"Perhaps you know that lady." Gatsby indicated a gorgeous, scarcely human -orchid of a woman who sat in state under a white plum tree. Tom and Daisy -stared, with that peculiarly unreal feeling that accompanies the -recognition of a hitherto ghostly celebrity of the movies. - -"She's lovely," said Daisy. - -"The man bending over her is her director." - -He took them ceremoniously from group to group: - -"Mrs. Buchanan . . . and Mr. Buchanan----" After an instant's hesitation -he added: "the polo player." - -"Oh no," objected Tom quickly, "Not me." - -But evidently the sound of it pleased Gatsby for Tom remained "the polo -player" for the rest of the evening. - -"I've never met so many celebrities!" Daisy exclaimed. "I liked that -man--what was his name?--with the sort of blue nose." - -Gatsby identified him, adding that he was a small producer. - -"Well, I liked him anyhow." - -"I'd a little rather not be the polo player," said Tom pleasantly, "I'd -rather look at all these famous people in--in oblivion." - -Daisy and Gatsby danced. I remember being surprised by his graceful, -conservative fox-trot--I had never seen him dance before. Then they -sauntered over to my house and sat on the steps for half an hour while -at her request I remained watchfully in the garden: "In case there's a -fire or a flood," she explained, "or any act of God." - -Tom appeared from his oblivion as we were sitting down to supper together. -"Do you mind if I eat with some people over here?" he said. "A fellow's -getting off some funny stuff." - -"Go ahead," answered Daisy genially, "And if you want to take down any -addresses here's my little gold pencil. . . ." She looked around after -a moment and told me the girl was "common but pretty," and I knew that -except for the half hour she'd been alone with Gatsby she wasn't having -a good time. - -We were at a particularly tipsy table. That was my fault--Gatsby had -been called to the phone and I'd enjoyed these same people only two -weeks before. But what had amused me then turned septic on the air now. - -"How do you feel, Miss Baedeker?" - -The girl addressed was trying, unsuccessfully, to slump against my -shoulder. At this inquiry she sat up and opened her eyes. - -"Wha?" - -A massive and lethargic woman, who had been urging Daisy to play golf -with her at the local club tomorrow, spoke in Miss Baedeker's defence: - -"Oh, she's all right now. When she's had five or six cocktails she always -starts screaming like that. I tell her she ought to leave it alone." - -"I do leave it alone," affirmed the accused hollowly. - -"We heard you yelling, so I said to Doc Civet here: 'There's somebody -that needs your help, Doc.' " - -"She's much obliged, I'm sure," said another friend, without gratitude. -"But you got her dress all wet when you stuck her head in the pool." - -"Anything I hate is to get my head stuck in a pool," mumbled Miss -Baedeker. "They almost drowned me once over in New Jersey." - -"Then you ought to leave it alone," countered Doctor Civet. - -"Speak for yourself!" cried Miss Baedeker violently. "Your hand shakes. -I wouldn't let you operate on me!" - -It was like that. Almost the last thing I remember was standing with -Daisy and watching the moving picture director and his Star. They were -still under the white plum tree and their faces were touching except -for a pale thin ray of moonlight between. It occurred to me that he -had been very slowly bending toward her all evening to attain this -proximity, and even while I watched I saw him stoop one ultimate degree -and kiss at her cheek. - -"I like her," said Daisy, "I think she's lovely." - -But the rest offended her--and inarguably, because it wasn't a gesture but -an emotion. She was appalled by West Egg, this unprecedented "place" -that Broadway had begotten upon a Long Island fishing village--appalled -by its raw vigor that chafed under the old euphemisms and by the too -obtrusive fate that herded its inhabitants along a short cut from nothing -to nothing. She saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed -to understand. - -I sat on the front steps with them while they waited for their car. It -was dark here in front: only the bright door sent ten square feet of -light volleying out into the soft black morning. Sometimes a shadow -moved against a dressing-room blind above, gave way to another shadow, -an indefinite procession of shadows, who rouged and powdered in an -invisible glass. - -"Who is this Gatsby anyhow?" demanded Tom suddenly. "Some big bootlegger?" - -"Where'd you hear that?" I inquired. - -"I didn't hear it. I imagined it. A lot of these newly rich people are -just big bootleggers, you know." - -"Not Gatsby," I said shortly. - -He was silent for a moment. The pebbles of the drive crunched under his -feet. - -"Well, he certainly must have strained himself to get this menagerie -together." - -A breeze stirred the grey haze of Daisy's fur collar. - -"At least they're more interesting than the people we know," she said -with an effort. - -"You didn't look so interested." - -"Well, I was." - -Tom laughed and turned to me. - -"Did you notice Daisy's face when that girl asked her to put her under -a cold shower?" - -Daisy began to sing with the music in a husky, rhythmic whisper, -bringing out a meaning in each word that it had never had -before and would never have again. When the melody rose, her voice -broke up sweetly, following it, in a way contralto voices have, and -each change tipped out a little of her warm human magic upon the air. - -"Lots of people come who haven't been invited," she said suddenly. -"That girl hadn't been invited. They simply force their way in and he's -too polite to object." - -"I'd like to know who he is and what he does," insisted Tom. "And I think -I'll make a point of finding out." - -"I can tell you right now," she answered. "He owned some drug stores, -a lot of drug stores. He built them up himself." - -The dilatory limousine came rolling up the drive. - -"Good night, Nick," said Daisy. - -Her glance left me and sought the lighted top of the steps where -"Three o'Clock in the Morning," a neat, sad little waltz of that year, -was drifting out the open door. After all, in the very casualness of -Gatsby's party there were romantic possibilities totally absent from -her world. What was it up there in the song that seemed to be calling -her back inside? What would happen now in the dim incalculable hours? -Perhaps some unbelievable guest would arrive, a person infinitely rare -and to be marvelled at, some authentically radiant young girl who with -one fresh glance at Gatsby, one moment of magical encounter, would blot -out those five years of unwavering devotion. - - -I stayed late that night. Gatsby asked me to wait until he was free -and I lingered in the garden until the inevitable swimming party had run -up, chilled and exalted, from the black beach, until the lights were -extinguished in the guest rooms overhead. When he came down the steps at -last the tanned skin was drawn unusually tight on his face, and his eyes -were bright and tired. - -"She didn't like it," he said immediately. - -"Of course she did." - -"She didn't like it," he insisted. "She didn't have a good time." - -He was silent and I guessed at his unutterable depression. - -"I feel far away from her," he said. "It's hard to make her understand." - -"You mean about the dance?" - -"The dance?" He dismissed all the dances he had given with a snap of -his fingers. "Old sport, the dance is unimportant." - -He wanted nothing less of Daisy than that she should go to Tom and say: -"I never loved you." After she had obliterated three years with that -sentence they could decide upon the more practical measures to be taken. -One of them was that, after she was free, they were to go back to -Louisville and be married from her house--just as if it were five -years ago. - -"And she doesn't understand," he said. "She used to be able to -understand. We'd sit for hours----" - -He broke off and began to walk up and down a desolate path of fruit rinds -and discarded favors and crushed flowers. - -"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past." - -"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!" - -He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the -shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand. - -"I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before," he said, -nodding determinedly. "She'll see." - -He talked a lot about the past and I gathered that he wanted to recover -something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. -His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could -once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he -could find out what that thing was. . . . - -. . . One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down -the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where -there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. -They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night -with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of -the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the -darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the -corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really -formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees--he could -climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the -pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. - -His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his -own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his -unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp -again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer -to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed -her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the -incarnation was complete. - -Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was -reminded of something--an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that -I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to -take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though -there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But -they made no sound and what I had almost remembered was -uncommunicable forever. - - - - -Chapter 7 - - - -It was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest that the lights -in his house failed to go on one Saturday night--and, as obscurely as it -had begun, his career as Trimalchio was over. - -Only gradually did I become aware that the automobiles which turned -expectantly into his drive stayed for just a minute and then drove -sulkily away. Wondering if he were sick I went over to find out--an -unfamiliar butler with a villainous face squinted at me suspiciously -from the door. - -"Is Mr. Gatsby sick?" - -"Nope." After a pause he added "sir" in a dilatory, grudging way. - -"I hadn't seen him around, and I was rather worried. Tell him Mr. Carraway -came over." - -"Who?" he demanded rudely. - -"Carraway." - -"Carraway. All right, I'll tell him." Abruptly he slammed the door. - -My Finn informed me that Gatsby had dismissed every servant in his -house a week ago and replaced them with half a dozen others, who never -went into West Egg Village to be bribed by the tradesmen, but ordered -moderate supplies over the telephone. The grocery boy reported that the -kitchen looked like a pigsty, and the general opinion in the village was -that the new people weren't servants at all. - -Next day Gatsby called me on the phone. - -"Going away?" I inquired. - -"No, old sport." - -"I hear you fired all your servants." - -"I wanted somebody who wouldn't gossip. Daisy comes over quite often--in -the afternoons." - -So the whole caravansary had fallen in like a card house at the -disapproval in her eyes. - -"They're some people Wolfshiem wanted to do something for. They're all -brothers and sisters. They used to run a small hotel." - -"I see." - -He was calling up at Daisy's request--would I come to lunch at -her house tomorrow? Miss Baker would be there. Half an hour later -Daisy herself telephoned and seemed relieved to find that I was coming. -Something was up. And yet I couldn't believe that they would choose -this occasion for a scene--especially for the rather harrowing scene -that Gatsby had outlined in the garden. - -The next day was broiling, almost the last, certainly the warmest, of -the summer. As my train emerged from the tunnel into sunlight, only the -hot whistles of the National Biscuit Company broke the simmering hush -at noon. The straw seats of the car hovered on the edge of combustion; -the woman next to me perspired delicately for a while into her white -shirtwaist, and then, as her newspaper dampened under her fingers, -lapsed despairingly into deep heat with a desolate cry. Her pocket-book -slapped to the floor. - -"Oh, my!" she gasped. - -I picked it up with a weary bend and handed it back to her, holding it -at arm's length and by the extreme tip of the corners to indicate that -I had no designs upon it--but every one near by, including the woman, -suspected me just the same. - -"Hot!" said the conductor to familiar faces. "Some weather! Hot! Hot! Hot! -Is it hot enough for you? Is it hot? Is it . . . ?" - -My commutation ticket came back to me with a dark stain from his hand. -That any one should care in this heat whose flushed lips he kissed, -whose head made damp the pajama pocket over his heart! - -. . . Through the hall of the Buchanans' house blew a faint wind, -carrying the sound of the telephone bell out to Gatsby and me as we -waited at the door. - -"The master's body!" roared the butler into the mouthpiece. "I'm sorry, -madame, but we can't furnish it--it's far too hot to touch this noon!" - -What he really said was: "Yes . . . yes . . . I'll see." - -He set down the receiver and came toward us, glistening slightly, to take -our stiff straw hats. - -"Madame expects you in the salon!" he cried, needlessly indicating the -direction. In this heat every extra gesture was an affront to the -common store of life. - -The room, shadowed well with awnings, was dark and cool. Daisy and -Jordan lay upon an enormous couch, like silver idols, weighing down -their own white dresses against the singing breeze of the fans. - -"We can't move," they said together. - -Jordan's fingers, powdered white over their tan, rested for a moment in -mine. - -"And Mr. Thomas Buchanan, the athlete?" I inquired. - -Simultaneously I heard his voice, gruff, muffled, husky, at the hall -telephone. - -Gatsby stood in the center of the crimson carpet and gazed around with -fascinated eyes. Daisy watched him and laughed, her sweet, exciting -laugh; a tiny gust of powder rose from her bosom into the air. - -"The rumor is," whispered Jordan, "that that's Tom's girl on the -telephone." - -We were silent. The voice in the hall rose high with annoyance. -"Very well, then, I won't sell you the car at all. . . . I'm -under no obligations to you at all. . . . And as for your bothering me -about it at lunch time I won't stand that at all!" - -"Holding down the receiver," said Daisy cynically. - -"No, he's not," I assured her. "It's a bona fide deal. I happen to -know about it." - -Tom flung open the door, blocked out its space for a moment with his -thick body, and hurried into the room. - -"Mr. Gatsby!" He put out his broad, flat hand with well-concealed -dislike. "I'm glad to see you, sir. . . . Nick. . . ." - -"Make us a cold drink," cried Daisy. - -As he left the room again she got up and went over to Gatsby and pulled -his face down kissing him on the mouth. - -"You know I love you," she murmured. - -"You forget there's a lady present," said Jordan. - -Daisy looked around doubtfully. - -"You kiss Nick too." - -"What a low, vulgar girl!" - -"I don't care!" cried Daisy and began to clog on the brick fireplace. -Then she remembered the heat and sat down guiltily on the couch just as -a freshly laundered nurse leading a little girl came into the room. - -"Bles-sed pre-cious," she crooned, holding out her arms. "Come to your -own mother that loves you." - -The child, relinquished by the nurse, rushed across the room and rooted -shyly into her mother's dress. - -"The Bles-sed pre-cious! Did mother get powder on your old yellowy -hair? Stand up now, and say How-de-do." - -Gatsby and I in turn leaned down and took the small reluctant hand. -Afterward he kept looking at the child with surprise. I don't think he had -ever really believed in its existence before. - -"I got dressed before luncheon," said the child, turning eagerly to -Daisy. - -"That's because your mother wanted to show you off." Her face bent into -the single wrinkle of the small white neck. "You dream, you. You absolute -little dream." - -"Yes," admitted the child calmly. "Aunt Jordan's got on a white -dress too." - -"How do you like mother's friends?" Daisy turned her around so that she -faced Gatsby. "Do you think they're pretty?" - -"Where's Daddy?" - -"She doesn't look like her father," explained Daisy. "She looks like me. -She's got my hair and shape of the face." - -Daisy sat back upon the couch. The nurse took a step forward and held -out her hand. - -"Come, Pammy." - -"Goodbye, sweetheart!" - -With a reluctant backward glance the well-disciplined child held to her -nurse's hand and was pulled out the door, just as Tom came back, -preceding four gin rickeys that clicked full of ice. - -Gatsby took up his drink. - -"They certainly look cool," he said, with visible tension. - -We drank in long greedy swallows. - -"I read somewhere that the sun's getting hotter every year," said Tom -genially. "It seems that pretty soon the earth's going to fall into the -sun--or wait a minute--it's just the opposite--the sun's getting colder -every year. - -"Come outside," he suggested to Gatsby, "I'd like you to have a look at -the place." - -I went with them out to the veranda. On the green Sound, stagnant in the -heat, one small sail crawled slowly toward the fresher sea. Gatsby's eyes -followed it momentarily; he raised his hand and pointed across the bay. - -"I'm right across from you." - -"So you are." - -Our eyes lifted over the rosebeds and the hot lawn and the weedy refuse -of the dog days along shore. Slowly the white wings of the boat moved -against the blue cool limit of the sky. Ahead lay the scalloped ocean and -the abounding blessed isles. - -"There's sport for you," said Tom, nodding. "I'd like to be out there -with him for about an hour." - -We had luncheon in the dining-room, darkened, too, against the heat, -and drank down nervous gayety with the cold ale. - -"What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon," cried Daisy, "and the -day after that, and the next thirty years?" - -"Don't be morbid," Jordan said. "Life starts all over again when it gets -crisp in the fall." - -"But it's so hot," insisted Daisy, on the verge of tears, "And -everything's so confused. Let's all go to town!" - -Her voice struggled on through the heat, beating against it, moulding its -senselessness into forms. - -"I've heard of making a garage out of a stable," Tom was saying to -Gatsby, "but I'm the first man who ever made a stable out of a garage." - -"Who wants to go to town?" demanded Daisy insistently. Gatsby's eyes -floated toward her. "Ah," she cried, "you look so cool." - -Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. -With an effort she glanced down at the table. - -"You always look so cool," she repeated. - -She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw. He was -astounded. His mouth opened a little and he looked at Gatsby and then -back at Daisy as if he had just recognized her as some one he knew a -long time ago. - -"You resemble the advertisement of the man," she went on innocently. -"You know the advertisement of the man----" - -"All right," broke in Tom quickly, "I'm perfectly willing to go to -town. Come on--we're all going to town." - -He got up, his eyes still flashing between Gatsby and his wife. -No one moved. - -"Come on!" His temper cracked a little. "What's the matter, anyhow? -If we're going to town let's start." - -His hand, trembling with his effort at self control, bore to his lips the -last of his glass of ale. Daisy's voice got us to our feet and out on -to the blazing gravel drive. - -"Are we just going to go?" she objected. "Like this? Aren't we going to -let any one smoke a cigarette first?" - -"Everybody smoked all through lunch." - -"Oh, let's have fun," she begged him. "It's too hot to fuss." - -He didn't answer. - -"Have it your own way," she said. "Come on, Jordan." - -They went upstairs to get ready while we three men stood there shuffling -the hot pebbles with our feet. A silver curve of the moon hovered already -in the western sky. Gatsby started to speak, changed his mind, but not -before Tom wheeled and faced him expectantly. - -"Have you got your stables here?" asked Gatsby with an effort. - -"About a quarter of a mile down the road." - -"Oh." - -A pause. - -"I don't see the idea of going to town," broke out Tom savagely. -"Women get these notions in their heads----" - -"Shall we take anything to drink?" called Daisy from an upper window. - -"I'll get some whiskey," answered Tom. He went inside. - -Gatsby turned to me rigidly: - -"I can't say anything in his house, old sport." - -"She's got an indiscreet voice," I remarked. "It's full of----" - -I hesitated. - -"Her voice is full of money," he said suddenly. - -That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money--that was -the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the -cymbals' song of it. . . . High in a white palace the king's daughter, -the golden girl. . . . - -Tom came out of the house wrapping a quart bottle in a towel, followed -by Daisy and Jordan wearing small tight hats of metallic cloth and -carrying light capes over their arms. - -"Shall we all go in my car?" suggested Gatsby. He felt the hot, green -leather of the seat. "I ought to have left it in the shade." - -"Is it standard shift?" demanded Tom. - -"Yes." - -"Well, you take my coupé and let me drive your car to town." - -The suggestion was distasteful to Gatsby. - -"I don't think there's much gas," he objected. - -"Plenty of gas," said Tom boisterously. He looked at the gauge. -"And if it runs out I can stop at a drug store. You can buy anything at a -drug store nowadays." - -A pause followed this apparently pointless remark. Daisy looked at Tom -frowning and an indefinable expression, at once definitely unfamiliar -and vaguely recognizable, as if I had only heard it described in words, -passed over Gatsby's face. - -"Come on, Daisy," said Tom, pressing her with his hand toward Gatsby's -car. "I'll take you in this circus wagon." - -He opened the door but she moved out from the circle of his arm. - -"You take Nick and Jordan. We'll follow you in the coupé." - -She walked close to Gatsby, touching his coat with her hand. Jordan and -Tom and I got into the front seat of Gatsby's car, Tom pushed the -unfamiliar gears tentatively and we shot off into the oppressive heat -leaving them out of sight behind. - -"Did you see that?" demanded Tom. - -"See what?" - -He looked at me keenly, realizing that Jordan and I must have known all -along. - -"You think I'm pretty dumb, don't you?" he suggested. "Perhaps I am, but -I have a--almost a second sight, sometimes, that tells me what to do. -Maybe you don't believe that, but science----" - -He paused. The immediate contingency overtook him, pulled him back from -the edge of the theoretical abyss. - -"I've made a small investigation of this fellow," he continued. "I could -have gone deeper if I'd known----" - -"Do you mean you've been to a medium?" inquired Jordan humorously. - -"What?" Confused, he stared at us as we laughed. "A medium?" - -"About Gatsby." - -"About Gatsby! No, I haven't. I said I'd been making a small -investigation of his past." - -"And you found he was an Oxford man," said Jordan helpfully. - -"An Oxford man!" He was incredulous. "Like hell he is! He wears a -pink suit." - -"Nevertheless he's an Oxford man." - -"Oxford, New Mexico," snorted Tom contemptuously, "or something like -that." - -"Listen, Tom. If you're such a snob, why did you invite him to lunch?" -demanded Jordan crossly. - -"Daisy invited him; she knew him before we were married--God knows -where!" - -We were all irritable now with the fading ale and, aware of it, -we drove for a while in silence. Then as Doctor T. J. Eckleburg's faded -eyes came into sight down the road, I remembered Gatsby's caution about -gasoline. - -"We've got enough to get us to town," said Tom. - -"But there's a garage right here," objected Jordan. "I don't want to get -stalled in this baking heat." - -Tom threw on both brakes impatiently and we slid to an abrupt -dusty stop under Wilson's sign. After a moment the proprietor emerged -from the interior of his establishment and gazed hollow-eyed at the car. - -"Let's have some gas!" cried Tom roughly. "What do you think we stopped -for--to admire the view?" - -"I'm sick," said Wilson without moving. "I been sick all day." - -"What's the matter?" - -"I'm all run down." - -"Well, shall I help myself?" Tom demanded. "You sounded well enough -on the phone." - -With an effort Wilson left the shade and support of the doorway and, -breathing hard, unscrewed the cap of the tank. In the sunlight his face -was green. - -"I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch," he said. "But I need money -pretty bad and I was wondering what you were going to do with your -old car." - -"How do you like this one?" inquired Tom. "I bought it last week." - -"It's a nice yellow one," said Wilson, as he strained at the handle. - -"Like to buy it?" - -"Big chance," Wilson smiled faintly. "No, but I could make some money -on the other." - -"What do you want money for, all of a sudden?" - -"I've been here too long. I want to get away. My wife and I want to -go west." - -"Your wife does!" exclaimed Tom, startled. - -"She's been talking about it for ten years." He rested for a moment -against the pump, shading his eyes. "And now she's going whether she wants -to or not. I'm going to get her away." - -The coupé flashed by us with a flurry of dust and the flash of a -waving hand. - -"What do I owe you?" demanded Tom harshly. - -"I just got wised up to something funny the last two days," remarked -Wilson. "That's why I want to get away. That's why I been bothering you -about the car." - -"What do I owe you?" - -"Dollar twenty." - -The relentless beating heat was beginning to confuse me and I had -a bad moment there before I realized that so far his suspicions -hadn't alighted on Tom. He had discovered that Myrtle had some -sort of life apart from him in another world and the shock had -made him physically sick. I stared at him and then at Tom, who had made -a parallel discovery less than an hour before--and it occurred to me -that there was no difference between men, in intelligence or race, so -profound as the difference between the sick and the well. Wilson was so -sick that he looked guilty, unforgivably guilty--as if he had just got -some poor girl with child. - -"I'll let you have that car," said Tom. "I'll send it over tomorrow -afternoon." - -That locality was always vaguely disquieting, even in the broad -glare of afternoon, and now I turned my head as though I had been -warned of something behind. Over the ashheaps the giant eyes of -Doctor T. J. Eckleburg kept their vigil but I perceived, after -a moment, that other eyes were regarding us with peculiar intensity -from less than twenty feet away. - -In one of the windows over the garage the curtains had been moved aside -a little and Myrtle Wilson was peering down at the car. So engrossed -was she that she had no consciousness of being observed and one -emotion after another crept into her face like objects into a slowly -developing picture. Her expression was curiously familiar--it was an -expression I had often seen on women's faces but on Myrtle Wilson's -face it seemed purposeless and inexplicable until I realized that her -eyes, wide with jealous terror, were fixed not on Tom, but on Jordan -Baker, whom she took to be his wife. - - -There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind, and as we -drove away Tom was feeling the hot whips of panic. His wife and his -mistress, until an hour ago secure and inviolate, were slipping -precipitately from his control. Instinct made him step on the -accelerator with the double purpose of overtaking Daisy and leaving -Wilson behind, and we sped along toward Astoria at fifty miles an hour, -until, among the spidery girders of the elevated, we came in sight of -the easygoing blue coupé. - -"Those big movies around Fiftieth Street are cool," suggested Jordan. -"I love New York on summer afternoons when every one's away. There's -something very sensuous about it--overripe, as if all sorts of funny -fruits were going to fall into your hands." - -The word "sensuous" had the effect of further disquieting Tom but before -he could invent a protest the coupé came to a stop and Daisy signalled us -to draw up alongside. - -"Where are we going?" she cried. - -"How about the movies?" - -"It's so hot," she complained. "You go. We'll ride around and meet you -after." With an effort her wit rose faintly, "We'll meet you on some -corner. I'll be the man smoking two cigarettes." - -"We can't argue about it here," Tom said impatiently as a truck gave -out a cursing whistle behind us. "You follow me to the south side of -Central Park, in front of the Plaza." - -Several times he turned his head and looked back for their car, -and if the traffic delayed them he slowed up until they came into -sight. I think he was afraid they would dart down a side street and out -of his life forever. - -But they didn't. And we all took the less explicable step of engaging -the parlor of a suite in the Plaza Hotel. - -The prolonged and tumultuous argument that ended by herding us into -that room eludes me, though I have a sharp physical memory that, in the -course of it, my underwear kept climbing like a damp snake around my -legs and intermittent beads of sweat raced cool across my back. The -notion originated with Daisy's suggestion that we hire five bathrooms -and take cold baths, and then assumed more tangible form as "a place to -have a mint julep." Each of us said over and over that it was a "crazy -idea"--we all talked at once to a baffled clerk and thought, or -pretended to think, that we were being very funny. . . . - -The room was large and stifling, and, though it was already four -o'clock, opening the windows admitted only a gust of hot shrubbery from -the Park. Daisy went to the mirror and stood with her back to us, -fixing her hair. - -"It's a swell suite," whispered Jordan respectfully and every one -laughed. - -"Open another window," commanded Daisy, without turning around. - -"There aren't any more." - -"Well, we'd better telephone for an axe----" - -"The thing to do is to forget about the heat," said Tom impatiently. -"You make it ten times worse by crabbing about it." - -He unrolled the bottle of whiskey from the towel and put it on the table. - -"Why not let her alone, old sport?" remarked Gatsby. "You're the one that -wanted to come to town." - -There was a moment of silence. The telephone book slipped from its nail -and splashed to the floor, whereupon Jordan whispered "Excuse me"--but -this time no one laughed. - -"I'll pick it up," I offered. - -"I've got it." Gatsby examined the parted string, muttered "Hum!" in an -interested way, and tossed the book on a chair. - -"That's a great expression of yours, isn't it?" said Tom sharply. - -"What is?" - -"All this 'old sport' business. Where'd you pick that up?" - -"Now see here, Tom," said Daisy, turning around from the mirror, "if -you're going to make personal remarks I won't stay here a minute. Call -up and order some ice for the mint julep." - -As Tom took up the receiver the compressed heat exploded into sound and -we were listening to the portentous chords of Mendelssohn's Wedding March -from the ballroom below. - -"Imagine marrying anybody in this heat!" cried Jordan dismally. - -"Still--I was married in the middle of June," Daisy remembered, -"Louisville in June! Somebody fainted. Who was it fainted, Tom?" - -"Biloxi," he answered shortly. - -"A man named Biloxi. 'Blocks' Biloxi, and he made boxes--that's a -fact--and he was from Biloxi, Tennessee." - -"They carried him into my house," appended Jordan, "because we lived -just two doors from the church. And he stayed three weeks, until Daddy -told him he had to get out. The day after he left Daddy died." After a -moment she added as if she might have sounded irreverent, "There -wasn't any connection." - -"I used to know a Bill Biloxi from Memphis," I remarked. - -"That was his cousin. I knew his whole family history before he left. -He gave me an aluminum putter that I use today." - -The music had died down as the ceremony began and now a long cheer floated -in at the window, followed by intermittent cries of "Yea--ea--ea!" -and finally by a burst of jazz as the dancing began. - -"We're getting old," said Daisy. "If we were young we'd rise and dance." - -"Remember Biloxi," Jordan warned her. "Where'd you know him, Tom?" - -"Biloxi?" He concentrated with an effort. "I didn't know him. He was a -friend of Daisy's." - -"He was not," she denied. "I'd never seen him before. He came down in -the private car." - -"Well, he said he knew you. He said he was raised in Louisville. -Asa Bird brought him around at the last minute and asked if we had room -for him." - -Jordan smiled. - -"He was probably bumming his way home. He told me he was president of -your class at Yale." - -Tom and I looked at each other blankly. - -"BilOxi?" - -"First place, we didn't have any president----" - -Gatsby's foot beat a short, restless tattoo and Tom eyed him suddenly. - -"By the way, Mr. Gatsby, I understand you're an Oxford man." - -"Not exactly." - -"Oh, yes, I understand you went to Oxford." - -"Yes--I went there." - -A pause. Then Tom's voice, incredulous and insulting: - -"You must have gone there about the time Biloxi went to New Haven." - -Another pause. A waiter knocked and came in with crushed mint and ice but -the silence was unbroken by his "Thank you" and the soft closing of the -door. This tremendous detail was to be cleared up at last. - -"I told you I went there," said Gatsby. - -"I heard you, but I'd like to know when." - -"It was in nineteen-nineteen, I only stayed five months. That's why I -can't really call myself an Oxford man." - -Tom glanced around to see if we mirrored his unbelief. But we were all -looking at Gatsby. - -"It was an opportunity they gave to some of the officers after the -Armistice," he continued. "We could go to any of the universities in -England or France." - -I wanted to get up and slap him on the back. I had one of those renewals -of complete faith in him that I'd experienced before. - -Daisy rose, smiling faintly, and went to the table. - -"Open the whiskey, Tom," she ordered. "And I'll make you a mint julep. -Then you won't seem so stupid to yourself. . . . Look at the mint!" - -"Wait a minute," snapped Tom, "I want to ask Mr. Gatsby one more -question." - -"Go on," Gatsby said politely. - -"What kind of a row are you trying to cause in my house anyhow?" - -They were out in the open at last and Gatsby was content. - -"He isn't causing a row." Daisy looked desperately from one to the -other. "You're causing a row. Please have a little self control." - -"Self control!" repeated Tom incredulously. "I suppose the latest thing -is to sit back and let Mr. Nobody from Nowhere make love to your wife. -Well, if that's the idea you can count me out. . . . Nowadays people begin -by sneering at family life and family institutions and next they'll -throw everything overboard and have intermarriage between black -and white." - -Flushed with his impassioned gibberish he saw himself standing alone on -the last barrier of civilization. - -"We're all white here," murmured Jordan. - -"I know I'm not very popular. I don't give big parties. I suppose -you've got to make your house into a pigsty in order to have any -friends--in the modern world." - -Angry as I was, as we all were, I was tempted to laugh whenever he opened -his mouth. The transition from libertine to prig was so complete. - -"I've got something to tell YOU, old sport,----" began Gatsby. But Daisy -guessed at his intention. - -"Please don't!" she interrupted helplessly. "Please let's all go home. -Why don't we all go home?" - -"That's a good idea." I got up. "Come on, Tom. Nobody wants a drink." - -"I want to know what Mr. Gatsby has to tell me." - -"Your wife doesn't love you," said Gatsby. "She's never loved you. -She loves me." - -"You must be crazy!" exclaimed Tom automatically. - -Gatsby sprang to his feet, vivid with excitement. - -"She never loved you, do you hear?" he cried. "She only married you -because I was poor and she was tired of waiting for me. It was a terrible -mistake, but in her heart she never loved any one except me!" - -At this point Jordan and I tried to go but Tom and Gatsby insisted with -competitive firmness that we remain--as though neither of them had -anything to conceal and it would be a privilege to partake vicariously -of their emotions. - -"Sit down Daisy." Tom's voice groped unsuccessfully for the paternal -note. "What's been going on? I want to hear all about it." - -"I told you what's been going on," said Gatsby. "Going on for five -years--and you didn't know." - -Tom turned to Daisy sharply. - -"You've been seeing this fellow for five years?" - -"Not seeing," said Gatsby. "No, we couldn't meet. But both of us loved -each other all that time, old sport, and you didn't know. I used to laugh -sometimes--"but there was no laughter in his eyes, "to think that you -didn't know." - -"Oh--that's all." Tom tapped his thick fingers together like a clergyman -and leaned back in his chair. - -"You're crazy!" he exploded. "I can't speak about what happened five years -ago, because I didn't know Daisy then--and I'll be damned if I see how you -got within a mile of her unless you brought the groceries to the back -door. But all the rest of that's a God Damned lie. Daisy loved me when -she married me and she loves me now." - -"No," said Gatsby, shaking his head. - -"She does, though. The trouble is that sometimes she gets foolish ideas -in her head and doesn't know what she's doing." He nodded sagely. "And -what's more, I love Daisy too. Once in a while I go off on a spree -and make a fool of myself, but I always come back, and in my heart I -love her all the time." - -"You're revolting," said Daisy. She turned to me, and her voice, -dropping an octave lower, filled the room with thrilling scorn: "Do you -know why we left Chicago? I'm surprised that they didn't treat you to -the story of that little spree." - -Gatsby walked over and stood beside her. - -"Daisy, that's all over now," he said earnestly. "It doesn't matter any -more. Just tell him the truth--that you never loved him--and it's all -wiped out forever." - -She looked at him blindly. "Why,--how could I love him--possibly?" - -"You never loved him." - -She hesitated. Her eyes fell on Jordan and me with a sort of appeal, -as though she realized at last what she was doing--and as though she had -never, all along, intended doing anything at all. But it was done now. -It was too late. - -"I never loved him," she said, with perceptible reluctance. - -"Not at Kapiolani?" demanded Tom suddenly. - -"No." - -From the ballroom beneath, muffled and suffocating chords were drifting up -on hot waves of air. - -"Not that day I carried you down from the Punch Bowl to keep your shoes -dry?" There was a husky tenderness in his tone. ". . . Daisy?" - -"Please don't." Her voice was cold, but the rancour was gone from it. -She looked at Gatsby. "There, Jay," she said--but her hand as she tried -to light a cigarette was trembling. Suddenly she threw the cigarette and -the burning match on the carpet. - -"Oh, you want too much!" she cried to Gatsby. "I love you now--isn't that -enough? I can't help what's past." She began to sob helplessly. -"I did love him once--but I loved you too." - -Gatsby's eyes opened and closed. - -"You loved me TOO?" he repeated. - -"Even that's a lie," said Tom savagely. "She didn't know you were alive. -Why,--there're things between Daisy and me that you'll never know, -things that neither of us can ever forget." - -The words seemed to bite physically into Gatsby. - -"I want to speak to Daisy alone," he insisted. "She's all excited now----" - -"Even alone I can't say I never loved Tom," she admitted in a pitiful -voice. "It wouldn't be true." - -"Of course it wouldn't," agreed Tom. - -She turned to her husband. - -"As if it mattered to you," she said. - -"Of course it matters. I'm going to take better care of you from now on." - -"You don't understand," said Gatsby, with a touch of panic. "You're not -going to take care of her any more." - -"I'm not?" Tom opened his eyes wide and laughed. He could afford to -control himself now. "Why's that?" - -"Daisy's leaving you." - -"Nonsense." - -"I am, though," she said with a visible effort. - -"She's not leaving me!" Tom's words suddenly leaned down over Gatsby. -"Certainly not for a common swindler who'd have to steal the ring he -put on her finger." - -"I won't stand this!" cried Daisy. "Oh, please let's get out." - -"Who are you, anyhow?" broke out Tom. "You're one of that bunch that -hangs around with Meyer Wolfshiem--that much I happen to know. I've made -a little investigation into your affairs--and I'll carry it further -tomorrow." - -"You can suit yourself about that, old sport." said Gatsby steadily. - -"I found out what your 'drug stores' were." He turned to us and spoke -rapidly. "He and this Wolfshiem bought up a lot of side-street drug stores -here and in Chicago and sold grain alcohol over the counter. That's one of -his little stunts. I picked him for a bootlegger the first time I saw -him and I wasn't far wrong." - -"What about it?" said Gatsby politely. "I guess your friend Walter Chase -wasn't too proud to come in on it." - -"And you left him in the lurch, didn't you? You let him go to jail for -a month over in New Jersey. God! You ought to hear Walter on the subject -of YOU." - -"He came to us dead broke. He was very glad to pick up some money, old -sport." - -"Don't you call me 'old sport'!" cried Tom. Gatsby said nothing. -"Walter could have you up on the betting laws too, but Wolfshiem scared -him into shutting his mouth." - -That unfamiliar yet recognizable look was back again in Gatsby's face. - -"That drug store business was just small change," continued Tom slowly, -"but you've got something on now that Walter's afraid to tell me -about." - -I glanced at Daisy who was staring terrified between Gatsby -and her husband and at Jordan who had begun to balance an invisible -but absorbing object on the tip of her chin. Then I turned back to -Gatsby--and was startled at his expression. He looked--and this is said -in all contempt for the babbled slander of his garden--as if he had -"killed a man." For a moment the set of his face could be described in -just that fantastic way. - -It passed, and he began to talk excitedly to Daisy, denying everything, -defending his name against accusations that had not been made. But with -every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave -that up and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped -away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling -unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room. - -The voice begged again to go. - -"PLEASE, Tom! I can't stand this any more." - -Her frightened eyes told that whatever intentions, whatever courage -she had had, were definitely gone. - -"You two start on home, Daisy," said Tom. "In Mr. Gatsby's car." - -She looked at Tom, alarmed now, but he insisted with magnanimous scorn. - -"Go on. He won't annoy you. I think he realizes that his presumptuous -little flirtation is over." - -They were gone, without a word, snapped out, made accidental, isolated, -like ghosts even from our pity. - -After a moment Tom got up and began wrapping the unopened bottle of -whiskey in the towel. - -"Want any of this stuff? Jordan? . . . Nick?" - -I didn't answer. - -"Nick?" He asked again. - -"What?" - -"Want any?" - -"No . . . I just remembered that today's my birthday." - -I was thirty. Before me stretched the portentous menacing road of a -new decade. - -It was seven o'clock when we got into the coupé with him and started -for Long Island. Tom talked incessantly, exulting and laughing, but his -voice was as remote from Jordan and me as the foreign clamor on the -sidewalk or the tumult of the elevated overhead. Human sympathy -has its limits and we were content to let all their tragic arguments -fade with the city lights behind. Thirty--the promise of a decade -of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning -brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair. But there was Jordan beside -me who, unlike Daisy, was too wise ever to carry well-forgotten -dreams from age to age. As we passed over the dark bridge her wan face -fell lazily against my coat's shoulder and the formidable stroke of -thirty died away with the reassuring pressure of her hand. - -So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight. - - -The young Greek, Michaelis, who ran the coffee joint beside the -ashheaps was the principal witness at the inquest. He had slept through -the heat until after five, when he strolled over to the garage and -found George Wilson sick in his office--really sick, pale as his own -pale hair and shaking all over. Michaelis advised him to go to bed but -Wilson refused, saying that he'd miss a lot of business if he did. -While his neighbor was trying to persuade him a violent racket broke -out overhead. - -"I've got my wife locked in up there," explained Wilson calmly. -"She's going to stay there till the day after tomorrow and then we're -going to move away." - -Michaelis was astonished; they had been neighbors for four years and -Wilson had never seemed faintly capable of such a statement. Generally -he was one of these worn-out men: when he wasn't working he sat on a -chair in the doorway and stared at the people and the cars that passed -along the road. When any one spoke to him he invariably laughed in an -agreeable, colorless way. He was his wife's man and not his own. - -So naturally Michaelis tried to find out what had happened, but Wilson -wouldn't say a word--instead he began to throw curious, suspicious -glances at his visitor and ask him what he'd been doing at certain -times on certain days. Just as the latter was getting uneasy some -workmen came past the door bound for his restaurant and Michaelis took -the opportunity to get away, intending to come back later. But he didn't. -He supposed he forgot to, that's all. When he came outside again -a little after seven he was reminded of the conversation because he -heard Mrs. Wilson's voice, loud and scolding, downstairs in the garage. - -"Beat me!" he heard her cry. "Throw me down and beat me, you dirty -little coward!" - -A moment later she rushed out into the dusk, waving her hands and -shouting; before he could move from his door the business was over. - -The "death car" as the newspapers called it, didn't stop; it came out -of the gathering darkness, wavered tragically for a moment and then -disappeared around the next bend. Michaelis wasn't even sure of its -color--he told the first policeman that it was light green. The other -car, the one going toward New York, came to rest a hundred yards -beyond, and its driver hurried back to where Myrtle Wilson, her life -violently extinguished, knelt in the road and mingled her thick, dark -blood with the dust. - -Michaelis and this man reached her first but when they had torn open -her shirtwaist still damp with perspiration, they saw that her left -breast was swinging loose like a flap and there was no need to listen -for the heart beneath. The mouth was wide open and ripped at the -corners as though she had choked a little in giving up the tremendous -vitality she had stored so long. - - -We saw the three or four automobiles and the crowd when we were still -some distance away. - -"Wreck!" said Tom. "That's good. Wilson'll have a little business -at last." - -He slowed down, but still without any intention of stopping until, -as we came nearer, the hushed intent faces of the people at the garage -door made him automatically put on the brakes. - -"We'll take a look," he said doubtfully, "just a look." - -I became aware now of a hollow, wailing sound which issued incessantly -from the garage, a sound which as we got out of the coupé and walked -toward the door resolved itself into the words "Oh, my God!" uttered over -and over in a gasping moan. - -"There's some bad trouble here," said Tom excitedly. - -He reached up on tiptoes and peered over a circle of heads into the -garage which was lit only by a yellow light in a swinging wire basket -overhead. Then he made a harsh sound in his throat and with a violent -thrusting movement of his powerful arms pushed his way through. - -The circle closed up again with a running murmur of expostulation; it -was a minute before I could see anything at all. Then new arrivals -disarranged the line and Jordan and I were pushed suddenly inside. - -Myrtle Wilson's body wrapped in a blanket and then in another -blanket as though she suffered from a chill in the hot night lay on a -work table by the wall and Tom, with his back to us, was bending over -it, motionless. Next to him stood a motorcycle policeman taking down -names with much sweat and correction in a little book. At first I -couldn't find the source of the high, groaning words that echoed -clamorously through the bare garage--then I saw Wilson standing on the -raised threshold of his office, swaying back and forth and holding to -the doorposts with both hands. Some man was talking to him in a low -voice and attempting from time to time to lay a hand on his shoulder, -but Wilson neither heard nor saw. His eyes would drop slowly from the -swinging light to the laden table by the wall and then jerk back to -the light again and he gave out incessantly his high horrible call. - -"O, my Ga-od! O, my Ga-od! Oh, Ga-od! Oh, my Ga-od!" - -Presently Tom lifted his head with a jerk and after staring around the -garage with glazed eyes addressed a mumbled incoherent remark to the -policeman. - -"M-a-v--" the policeman was saying, "--o----" - -"No,--r--" corrected the man, "M-a-v-r-o----" - -"Listen to me!" muttered Tom fiercely. - -"r--" said the policeman, "o----" - -"g----" - -"g--" He looked up as Tom's broad hand fell sharply on his shoulder. -"What you want, fella?" - -"What happened--that's what I want to know!" - -"Auto hit her. Ins'antly killed." - -"Instantly killed," repeated Tom, staring. - -"She ran out ina road. Son-of-a-bitch didn't even stopus car." - -"There was two cars," said Michaelis, "one comin', one goin', see?" - -"Going where?" asked the policeman keenly. - -"One goin' each way. Well, she--" His hand rose toward the blankets but -stopped half way and fell to his side, "--she ran out there an' the one -comin' from N'York knock right into her goin' thirty or forty miles an -hour." - -"What's the name of this place here?" demanded the officer. - -"Hasn't got any name." - -A pale, well-dressed Negro stepped near. - -"It was a yellow car," he said, "big yellow car. New." - -"See the accident?" asked the policeman. - -"No, but the car passed me down the road, going faster'n forty. Going -fifty, sixty." - -"Come here and let's have your name. Look out now. I want to get his -name." - -Some words of this conversation must have reached Wilson swaying -in the office door, for suddenly a new theme found voice among -his gasping cries. - -"You don't have to tell me what kind of car it was! I know what kind of -car it was!" - -Watching Tom I saw the wad of muscle back of his shoulder tighten -under his coat. He walked quickly over to Wilson and standing -in front of him seized him firmly by the upper arms. - -"You've got to pull yourself together," he said with soothing -gruffness. - -Wilson's eyes fell upon Tom; he started up on his tiptoes and then -would have collapsed to his knees had not Tom held him upright. - -"Listen," said Tom, shaking him a little. "I just got here a minute ago, -from New York. I was bringing you that coupé we've been talking about. -That yellow car I was driving this afternoon wasn't mine, do you hear? I -haven't seen it all afternoon." - -Only the Negro and I were near enough to hear what he said but the -policeman caught something in the tone and looked over with truculent -eyes. - -"What's all that?" he demanded. - -"I'm a friend of his." Tom turned his head but kept his hands firm on -Wilson's body. "He says he knows the car that did it. . . . It was a yellow -car." - -Some dim impulse moved the policeman to look suspiciously at Tom. - -"And what color's your car?" - -"It's a blue car, a coupé." - -"We've come straight from New York," I said. - -Some one who had been driving a little behind us confirmed this and -the policeman turned away. - -"Now, if you'll let me have that name again correct----" - -Picking up Wilson like a doll Tom carried him into the office, -set him down in a chair and came back. - -"If somebody'll come here and sit with him!" he snapped -authoritatively. He watched while the two men standing closest glanced -at each other and went unwillingly into the room. Then Tom shut the -door on them and came down the single step, his eyes avoiding the -table. As he passed close to me he whispered "Let's get out." - -Self consciously, with his authoritative arms breaking the way, we -pushed through the still gathering crowd, passing a hurried doctor, -case in hand, who had been sent for in wild hope half an hour ago. - -Tom drove slowly until we were beyond the bend--then his foot came down -hard and the coupé raced along through the night. In a little while I -heard a low husky sob and saw that the tears were overflowing down his -face. - -"The God Damn coward!" he whimpered. "He didn't even stop his car." - - -The Buchanans' house floated suddenly toward us through the dark rustling -trees. Tom stopped beside the porch and looked up at the second floor -where two windows bloomed with light among the vines. - -"Daisy's home," he said. As we got out of the car he glanced at me and -frowned slightly. - -"I ought to have dropped you in West Egg, Nick. There's nothing we can -do tonight." - -A change had come over him and he spoke gravely, and with decision. -As we walked across the moonlight gravel to the porch he disposed of -the situation in a few brisk phrases. - -"I'll telephone for a taxi to take you home, and while you're waiting -you and Jordan better go in the kitchen and have them get you some -supper--if you want any." He opened the door. "Come in." - -"No thanks. But I'd be glad if you'd order me the taxi. I'll wait -outside." - -Jordan put her hand on my arm. - -"Won't you come in, Nick?" - -"No thanks." - -I was feeling a little sick and I wanted to be alone. But Jordan lingered -for a moment more. - -"It's only half past nine," she said. - -I'd be damned if I'd go in; I'd had enough of all of them for one day -and suddenly that included Jordan too. She must have seen something of -this in my expression for she turned abruptly away and ran up the -porch steps into the house. I sat down for a few minutes with my head -in my hands, until I heard the phone taken up inside and the butler's -voice calling a taxi. Then I walked slowly down the drive away from the -house intending to wait by the gate. - -I hadn't gone twenty yards when I heard my name and Gatsby stepped from -between two bushes into the path. I must have felt pretty weird by that -time because I could think of nothing except the luminosity of his -pink suit under the moon. - -"What are you doing?" I inquired. - -"Just standing here, old sport." - -Somehow, that seemed a despicable occupation. For all I knew he was going -to rob the house in a moment; I wouldn't have been surprised to see -sinister faces, the faces of "Wolfshiem's people," behind him in the -dark shrubbery. - -"Did you see any trouble on the road?" he asked after a minute. - -"Yes." - -He hesitated. - -"Was she killed?" - -"Yes." - -"I thought so; I told Daisy I thought so. It's better that the shock -should all come at once. She stood it pretty well." - -He spoke as if Daisy's reaction was the only thing that mattered. - -"I got to West Egg by a side road," he went on, "and left the car in my -garage. I don't think anybody saw us but of course I can't be sure." - -I disliked him so much by this time that I didn't find it necessary to -tell him he was wrong. - -"Who was the woman?" he inquired. - -"Her name was Wilson. Her husband owns the garage. How the devil did it -happen?" - -"Well, I tried to swing the wheel----" He broke off, and suddenly I -guessed at the truth. - -"Was Daisy driving?" - -"Yes," he said after a moment, "but of course I'll say I was. You see, -when we left New York she was very nervous and she thought it would -steady her to drive--and this woman rushed out at us just as we were -passing a car coming the other way. It all happened in a minute but it -seemed to me that she wanted to speak to us, thought we were somebody -she knew. Well, first Daisy turned away from the woman toward the other -car, and then she lost her nerve and turned back. The second my hand -reached the wheel I felt the shock--it must have killed her instantly." - -"It ripped her open----" - -"Don't tell me, old sport." He winced. "Anyhow--Daisy stepped on it. -I tried to make her stop, but she couldn't so I pulled on the emergency -brake. Then she fell over into my lap and I drove on. - -"She'll be all right tomorrow," he said presently. "I'm just going to -wait here and see if he tries to bother her about that unpleasantness -this afternoon. She's locked herself into her room and if he tries any -brutality she's going to turn the light out and on again." - -"He won't touch her," I said. "He's not thinking about her." - -"I don't trust him, old sport." - -"How long are you going to wait?" - -"All night if necessary. Anyhow till they all go to bed." - -A new point of view occurred to me. Suppose Tom found out that Daisy had -been driving. He might think he saw a connection in it--he might think -anything. I looked at the house: there were two or three bright windows -downstairs and the pink glow from Daisy's room on the second floor. - -"You wait here," I said. "I'll see if there's any sign of a commotion." - -I walked back along the border of the lawn, traversed the gravel softly -and tiptoed up the veranda steps. The drawing-room curtains were open, -and I saw that the room was empty. Crossing the porch where we had dined -that June night three months before I came to a small rectangle of light -which I guessed was the pantry window. The blind was drawn but I found -a rift at the sill. - -Daisy and Tom were sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table -with a plate of cold fried chicken between them and two bottles of -ale. He was talking intently across the table at her and in his -earnestness his hand had fallen upon and covered her own. Once in a -while she looked up at him and nodded in agreement. - -They weren't happy, and neither of them had touched the chicken or the -ale--and yet they weren't unhappy either. There was an unmistakable air -of natural intimacy about the picture and anybody would have said that -they were conspiring together. - -As I tiptoed from the porch I heard my taxi feeling its way along the -dark road toward the house. Gatsby was waiting where I had left him in -the drive. - -"Is it all quiet up there?" he asked anxiously. - -"Yes, it's all quiet." I hesitated. "You'd better come home and get -some sleep." - -He shook his head. - -"I want to wait here till Daisy goes to bed. Good night, old sport." - -He put his hands in his coat pockets and turned back eagerly to his -scrutiny of the house, as though my presence marred the sacredness of -the vigil. So I walked away and left him standing there in the -moonlight--watching over nothing. - - - - -Chapter 8 - - - -I couldn't sleep all night; a fog-horn was groaning incessantly on the -Sound, and I tossed half-sick between grotesque reality and savage -frightening dreams. Toward dawn I heard a taxi go up Gatsby's drive -and immediately I jumped out of bed and began to dress--I felt that I -had something to tell him, something to warn him about and morning -would be too late. - -Crossing his lawn I saw that his front door was still open and he was -leaning against a table in the hall, heavy with dejection or sleep. - -"Nothing happened," he said wanly. "I waited, and about four o'clock she -came to the window and stood there for a minute and then turned out -the light." - -His house had never seemed so enormous to me as it did that night when we -hunted through the great rooms for cigarettes. We pushed aside curtains -that were like pavilions and felt over innumerable feet of dark wall for -electric light switches--once I tumbled with a sort of splash upon the -keys of a ghostly piano. There was an inexplicable amount of dust -everywhere and the rooms were musty as though they hadn't been aired for -many days. I found the humidor on an unfamiliar table with two stale dry -cigarettes inside. Throwing open the French windows of the -drawing-room we sat smoking out into the darkness. - -"You ought to go away," I said. "It's pretty certain they'll trace -your car." - -"Go away NOW, old sport?" - -"Go to Atlantic City for a week, or up to Montreal." - -He wouldn't consider it. He couldn't possibly leave Daisy until he knew -what she was going to do. He was clutching at some last hope and I -couldn't bear to shake him free. - -It was this night that he told me the strange story of his youth with -Dan Cody--told it to me because "Jay Gatsby" had broken up like glass -against Tom's hard malice and the long secret extravaganza was played -out. I think that he would have acknowledged anything, now, without -reserve, but he wanted to talk about Daisy. - -She was the first "nice" girl he had ever known. In various unrevealed -capacities he had come in contact with such people but always -with indiscernible barbed wire between. He found her excitingly -desirable. He went to her house, at first with other officers -from Camp Taylor, then alone. It amazed him--he had never been -in such a beautiful house before. But what gave it an air of breathless -intensity was that Daisy lived there--it was as casual a thing to her -as his tent out at camp was to him. There was a ripe mystery about it, -a hint of bedrooms upstairs more beautiful and cool than other -bedrooms, of gay and radiant activities taking place through its -corridors and of romances that were not musty and laid away already in -lavender but fresh and breathing and redolent of this year's shining -motor cars and of dances whose flowers were scarcely withered. It -excited him too that many men had already loved Daisy--it increased -her value in his eyes. He felt their presence all about the house, -pervading the air with the shades and echoes of still vibrant emotions. - -But he knew that he was in Daisy's house by a colossal accident. -However glorious might be his future as Jay Gatsby, he was at present a -penniless young man without a past, and at any moment the invisible -cloak of his uniform might slip from his shoulders. So he made -the most of his time. He took what he could get, ravenously and -unscrupulously--eventually he took Daisy one still October night, -took her because he had no real right to touch her hand. - -He might have despised himself, for he had certainly taken her under -false pretenses. I don't mean that he had traded on his phantom -millions, but he had deliberately given Daisy a sense of security; he -let her believe that he was a person from much the same stratum as -herself--that he was fully able to take care of her. As a matter of -fact he had no such facilities--he had no comfortable family standing -behind him and he was liable at the whim of an impersonal government -to be blown anywhere about the world. - -But he didn't despise himself and it didn't turn out as he had -imagined. He had intended, probably, to take what he could and go--but -now he found that he had committed himself to the following of a grail. -He knew that Daisy was extraordinary but he didn't realize just how -extraordinary a "nice" girl could be. She vanished into her rich -house, into her rich, full life, leaving Gatsby--nothing. He felt -married to her, that was all. - -When they met again two days later it was Gatsby who was breathless, -who was somehow betrayed. Her porch was bright with the bought -luxury of star-shine; the wicker of the settee squeaked fashionably -as she turned toward him and he kissed her curious and lovely mouth. -She had caught a cold and it made her voice huskier and more charming -than ever and Gatsby was overwhelmingly aware of the youth and mystery -that wealth imprisons and preserves, of the freshness of many clothes -and of Daisy, gleaming like silver, safe and proud above the hot -struggles of the poor. - - -"I can't describe to you how surprised I was to find out I loved her, -old sport. I even hoped for a while that she'd throw me over, but she -didn't, because she was in love with me too. She thought I knew a lot -because I knew different things from her. . . . Well, there I was, -way off my ambitions, getting deeper in love every minute, and -all of a sudden I didn't care. What was the use of doing great -things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going -to do?" - -On the last afternoon before he went abroad he sat with Daisy in -his arms for a long, silent time. It was a cold fall day with fire -in the room and her cheeks flushed. Now and then she moved and he -changed his arm a little and once he kissed her dark shining hair. The -afternoon had made them tranquil for a while as if to give them a deep -memory for the long parting the next day promised. They had never been -closer in their month of love nor communicated more profoundly one -with another than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's -shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though -she were asleep. - - -He did extraordinarily well in the war. He was a captain before he went -to the front and following the Argonne battles he got his majority and -the command of the divisional machine guns. After the Armistice -he tried frantically to get home but some complication or -misunderstanding sent him to Oxford instead. He was worried now--there -was a quality of nervous despair in Daisy's letters. She didn't see why -he couldn't come. She was feeling the pressure of the world outside -and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be -reassured that she was doing the right thing after all. - -For Daisy was young and her artificial world was redolent of orchids -and pleasant, cheerful snobbery and orchestras which set the rhythm of -the year, summing up the sadness and suggestiveness of life in new -tunes. All night the saxophones wailed the hopeless comment of the -"Beale Street Blues" while a hundred pairs of golden and silver -slippers shuffled the shining dust. At the grey tea hour there were -always rooms that throbbed incessantly with this low sweet fever, -while fresh faces drifted here and there like rose petals blown by the -sad horns around the floor. - -Through this twilight universe Daisy began to move again with the -season; suddenly she was again keeping half a dozen dates a day with -half a dozen men and drowsing asleep at dawn with the beads and -chiffon of an evening dress tangled among dying orchids on the floor -beside her bed. And all the time something within her was crying for a -decision. She wanted her life shaped now, immediately--and the decision -must be made by some force--of love, of money, of unquestionable -practicality--that was close at hand. - -That force took shape in the middle of spring with the arrival of Tom -Buchanan. There was a wholesome bulkiness about his person and his -position and Daisy was flattered. Doubtless there was a certain -struggle and a certain relief. The letter reached Gatsby while he was -still at Oxford. - - -It was dawn now on Long Island and we went about opening the rest of -the windows downstairs, filling the house with grey turning, -gold turning light. The shadow of a tree fell abruptly across the dew -and ghostly birds began to sing among the blue leaves. There was a -slow pleasant movement in the air, scarcely a wind, promising a cool -lovely day. - -"I don't think she ever loved him." Gatsby turned around from a window -and looked at me challengingly. "You must remember, old sport, she was -very excited this afternoon. He told her those things in a way that -frightened her--that made it look as if I was some kind of cheap sharper. -And the result was she hardly knew what she was saying." - -He sat down gloomily. - -"Of course she might have loved him, just for a minute, when they were -first married--and loved me more even then, do you see?" - -Suddenly he came out with a curious remark: - -"In any case," he said, "it was just personal." - -What could you make of that, except to suspect some intensity in -his conception of the affair that couldn't be measured? - -He came back from France when Tom and Daisy were still on their wedding -trip, and made a miserable but irresistible journey to Louisville -on the last of his army pay. He stayed there a week, walking the -streets where their footsteps had clicked together through the -November night and revisiting the out-of-the-way places to which -they had driven in her white car. Just as Daisy's house had always -seemed to him more mysterious and gay than other houses so his -idea of the city itself, even though she was gone from it, was pervaded -with a melancholy beauty. - -He left feeling that if he had searched harder he might have found -her--that he was leaving her behind. The day-coach--he was penniless -now--was hot. He went out to the open vestibule and sat down on a -folding-chair, and the station slid away and the backs of unfamiliar -buildings moved by. Then out into the spring fields, where a yellow -trolley raced them for a minute with people in it who might once have -seen the pale magic of her face along the casual street. - -The track curved and now it was going away from the sun which, as it -sank lower, seemed to spread itself in benediction over the vanishing -city where she had drawn her breath. He stretched out his hand -desperately as if to snatch only a wisp of air, to save a fragment of -the spot that she had made lovely for him. But it was all going by too -fast now for his blurred eyes and he knew that he had lost that part of -it, the freshest and the best, forever. - - -It was nine o'clock when we finished breakfast and went out on the -porch. The night had made a sharp difference in the weather and there -was an autumn flavor in the air. The gardener, the last one of Gatsby's -former servants, came to the foot of the steps. - -"I'm going to drain the pool today, Mr. Gatsby. Leaves'll start falling -pretty soon and then there's always trouble with the pipes." - -"Don't do it today," Gatsby answered. He turned to me apologetically. -"You know, old sport, I've never used that pool all summer?" - -I looked at my watch and stood up. - -"Twelve minutes to my train." - -I didn't want to go to the city. I wasn't worth a decent stroke of work -but it was more than that--I didn't want to leave Gatsby. I missed that -train, and then another, before I could get myself away. - -"I'll call you up," I said finally. - -"Do, old sport." - -"I'll call you about noon." - -We walked slowly down the steps. - -"I suppose Daisy'll call too." He looked at me anxiously as if he -hoped I'd corroborate this. - -"I suppose so." - -"Well--goodbye." - -We shook hands and I started away. Just before I reached the hedge I -remembered something and turned around. - -"They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the -whole damn bunch put together." - -I've always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave -him, because I disapproved of him from beginning to end. First he nodded -politely, and then his face broke into that radiant and understanding -smile, as if we'd been in ecstatic cahoots on that fact all the time. -His gorgeous pink rag of a suit made a bright spot of color against the -white steps and I thought of the night when I first came to his ancestral -home three months before. The lawn and drive had been crowded with the -faces of those who guessed at his corruption--and he had stood on those -steps, concealing his incorruptible dream, as he waved them goodbye. - -I thanked him for his hospitality. We were always thanking him for -that--I and the others. - -"Goodbye," I called. "I enjoyed breakfast, Gatsby." - - -Up in the city I tried for a while to list the quotations on an -interminable amount of stock, then I fell asleep in my swivel-chair. -Just before noon the phone woke me and I started up with sweat -breaking out on my forehead. It was Jordan Baker; she often called -me up at this hour because the uncertainty of her own movements -between hotels and clubs and private houses made her hard to find -in any other way. Usually her voice came over the wire as something -fresh and cool as if a divot from a green golf links had come -sailing in at the office window but this morning it seemed harsh and dry. - -"I've left Daisy's house," she said. "I'm at Hempstead and I'm going down -to Southampton this afternoon." - -Probably it had been tactful to leave Daisy's house, but the act -annoyed me and her next remark made me rigid. - -"You weren't so nice to me last night." - -"How could it have mattered then?" - -Silence for a moment. Then-- - -"However--I want to see you." - -"I want to see you too." - -"Suppose I don't go to Southampton, and come into town this afternoon?" - -"No--I don't think this afternoon." - -"Very well." - -"It's impossible this afternoon. Various----" - -We talked like that for a while and then abruptly we weren't talking any -longer. I don't know which of us hung up with a sharp click but I know I -didn't care. I couldn't have talked to her across a tea-table that day if -I never talked to her again in this world. - -I called Gatsby's house a few minutes later, but the line was busy. I -tried four times; finally an exasperated central told me the wire was -being kept open for long distance from Detroit. Taking out my -time-table I drew a small circle around the three-fifty train. Then I -leaned back in my chair and tried to think. It was just noon. - - -When I passed the ashheaps on the train that morning I had crossed -deliberately to the other side of the car. I suppose there'd be a -curious crowd around there all day with little boys searching for dark -spots in the dust and some garrulous man telling over and over what -had happened until it became less and less real even to him and he -could tell it no longer and Myrtle Wilson's tragic achievement was -forgotten. Now I want to go back a little and tell what happened at the -garage after we left there the night before. - -They had difficulty in locating the sister, Catherine. She must -have broken her rule against drinking that night for when she -arrived she was stupid with liquor and unable to understand that the -ambulance had already gone to Flushing. When they convinced her of -this she immediately fainted as if that was the intolerable part of -the affair. Someone kind or curious took her in his car and drove -her in the wake of her sister's body. - -Until long after midnight a changing crowd lapped up against the front -of the garage while George Wilson rocked himself back and forth on the -couch inside. For a while the door of the office was open and -everyone who came into the garage glanced irresistibly through it. -Finally someone said it was a shame and closed the door. Michaelis and -several other men were with him--first four or five men, later two or -three men. Still later Michaelis had to ask the last stranger to wait -there fifteen minutes longer while he went back to his own place and made -a pot of coffee. After that he stayed there alone with Wilson until dawn. - -About three o'clock the quality of Wilson's incoherent muttering -changed--he grew quieter and began to talk about the yellow car. He -announced that he had a way of finding out whom the yellow car belonged -to, and then he blurted out that a couple of months ago his wife had -come from the city with her face bruised and her nose swollen. - -But when he heard himself say this, he flinched and began to cry "Oh, -my God!" again in his groaning voice. Michaelis made a clumsy attempt -to distract him. - -"How long have you been married, George? Come on there, try and sit -still a minute and answer my question. How long have you been married?" - -"Twelve years." - -"Ever had any children? Come on, George, sit still--I asked you a -question. Did you ever have any children?" - -The hard brown beetles kept thudding against the dull light and whenever -Michaelis heard a car go tearing along the road outside it sounded to him -like the car that hadn't stopped a few hours before. He didn't like to go -into the garage because the work bench was stained where the body had -been lying so he moved uncomfortably around the office--he knew every -object in it before morning--and from time to time sat down beside Wilson -trying to keep him more quiet. - -"Have you got a church you go to sometimes, George? Maybe even if you -haven't been there for a long time? Maybe I could call up the church -and get a priest to come over and he could talk to you, see?" - -"Don't belong to any." - -"You ought to have a church, George, for times like this. You must have -gone to church once. Didn't you get married in a church? Listen, George, -listen to me. Didn't you get married in a church?" - -"That was a long time ago." - -The effort of answering broke the rhythm of his rocking--for a moment he -was silent. Then the same half knowing, half bewildered look came back -into his faded eyes. - -"Look in the drawer there," he said, pointing at the desk. - -"Which drawer?" - -"That drawer--that one." - -Michaelis opened the drawer nearest his hand. There was nothing in it but -a small expensive dog leash made of leather and braided silver. It was -apparently new. - -"This?" he inquired, holding it up. - -Wilson stared and nodded. - -"I found it yesterday afternoon. She tried to tell me about it but I -knew it was something funny." - -"You mean your wife bought it?" - -"She had it wrapped in tissue paper on her bureau." - -Michaelis didn't see anything odd in that and he gave Wilson a dozen -reasons why his wife might have bought the dog leash. But conceivably -Wilson had heard some of these same explanations before, from Myrtle, -because he began saying "Oh, my God!" again in a whisper--his comforter -left several explanations in the air. - -"Then he killed her," said Wilson. His mouth dropped open suddenly. - -"Who did?" - -"I have a way of finding out." - -"You're morbid, George," said his friend. "This has been a strain to you -and you don't know what you're saying. You'd better try and sit quiet -till morning." - -"He murdered her." - -"It was an accident, George." - -Wilson shook his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth widened slightly -with the ghost of a superior "Hm!" - -"I know," he said definitely, "I'm one of these trusting fellas and I -don't think any harm to NObody, but when I get to know a thing I know -it. It was the man in that car. She ran out to speak to him and he -wouldn't stop." - -Michaelis had seen this too but it hadn't occurred to him that there was -any special significance in it. He believed that Mrs. Wilson had been -running away from her husband, rather than trying to stop any -particular car. - -"How could she of been like that?" - -"She's a deep one," said Wilson, as if that answered the question. -"Ah-h-h----" - -He began to rock again and Michaelis stood twisting the leash in -his hand. - -"Maybe you got some friend that I could telephone for, George?" - -This was a forlorn hope--he was almost sure that Wilson had no friend: -there was not enough of him for his wife. He was glad a little later when -he noticed a change in the room, a blue quickening by the window, and -realized that dawn wasn't far off. About five o'clock it was blue enough -outside to snap off the light. - -Wilson's glazed eyes turned out to the ashheaps, where small grey -clouds took on fantastic shape and scurried here and there in the faint -dawn wind. - -"I spoke to her," he muttered, after a long silence. "I told her she might -fool me but she couldn't fool God. I took her to the window--" With an -effort he got up and walked to the rear window and leaned with his face -pressed against it, "--and I said 'God knows what you've been doing, -everything you've been doing. You may fool me but you can't fool God!' " - -Standing behind him Michaelis saw with a shock that he was looking at the -eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg which had just emerged pale and enormous -from the dissolving night. - -"God sees everything," repeated Wilson. - -"That's an advertisement," Michaelis assured him. Something made him turn -away from the window and look back into the room. But Wilson stood there a -long time, his face close to the window pane, nodding into the twilight. - - -By six o'clock Michaelis was worn out and grateful for the sound of a -car stopping outside. It was one of the watchers of the night before -who had promised to come back so he cooked breakfast for three which -he and the other man ate together. Wilson was quieter now and Michaelis -went home to sleep; when he awoke four hours later and hurried back to the -garage Wilson was gone. - -His movements--he was on foot all the time--were afterward traced to Port -Roosevelt and then to Gad's Hill where he bought a sandwich that he -didn't eat and a cup of coffee. He must have been tired and walking -slowly for he didn't reach Gad's Hill until noon. Thus far there was -no difficulty in accounting for his time--there were boys who had seen a -man "acting sort of crazy" and motorists at whom he stared oddly from -the side of the road. Then for three hours he disappeared from view. -The police, on the strength of what he said to Michaelis, that he "had -a way of finding out," supposed that he spent that time going from -garage to garage thereabouts inquiring for a yellow car. On the other -hand no garage man who had seen him ever came forward--and perhaps he -had an easier, surer way of finding out what he wanted to know. By -half past two he was in West Egg where he asked someone the way to -Gatsby's house. So by that time he knew Gatsby's name. - - -At two o'clock Gatsby put on his bathing suit and left word with the -butler that if any one phoned word was to be brought to him at the -pool. He stopped at the garage for a pneumatic mattress that had amused -his guests during the summer, and the chauffeur helped him pump it up. -Then he gave instructions that the open car wasn't to be taken out -under any circumstances--and this was strange because the front right -fender needed repair. - -Gatsby shouldered the mattress and started for the pool. Once he -stopped and shifted it a little, and the chauffeur asked him if he -needed help, but he shook his head and in a moment disappeared among -the yellowing trees. - -No telephone message arrived but the butler went without his sleep and -waited for it until four o'clock--until long after there was any one to -give it to if it came. I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn't -believe it would come and perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true -he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high -price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up -at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he -found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was -upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being -real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted -fortuitously about . . . like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding toward -him through the amorphous trees. - -The chauffeur--he was one of Wolfshiem's protégés--heard the -shots--afterward he could only say that he hadn't thought anything much -about them. I drove from the station directly to Gatsby's house and my -rushing anxiously up the front steps was the first thing that alarmed any -one. But they knew then, I firmly believe. With scarcely a word said, four -of us, the chauffeur, butler, gardener and I, hurried down to the pool. - -There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the -fresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other. -With little ripples that were hardly the shadows of waves, the laden -mattress moved irregularly down the pool. A small gust of wind that -scarcely corrugated the surface was enough to disturb its accidental -course with its accidental burden. The touch of a cluster of leaves -revolved it slowly, tracing, like the leg of compass, a thin red circle -in the water. - -It was after we started with Gatsby toward the house that the gardener -saw Wilson's body a little way off in the grass, and the holocaust was -complete. - - - - -Chapter 9 - - - -After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and the -next day, only as an endless drill of police and photographers and -newspaper men in and out of Gatsby's front door. A rope stretched -across the main gate and a policeman by it kept out the curious, but -little boys soon discovered that they could enter through my yard and -there were always a few of them clustered open-mouthed about the pool. -Someone with a positive manner, perhaps a detective, used the -expression "mad man" as he bent over Wilson's body that afternoon, and -the adventitious authority of his voice set the key for the newspaper -reports next morning. - -Most of those reports were a nightmare--grotesque, circumstantial, -eager and untrue. When Michaelis's testimony at the inquest brought to -light Wilson's suspicions of his wife I thought the whole tale would -shortly be served up in racy pasquinade--but Catherine, who might have -said anything, didn't say a word. She showed a surprising amount of -character about it too--looked at the coroner with determined eyes under -that corrected brow of hers and swore that her sister had never seen -Gatsby, that her sister was completely happy with her husband, that her -sister had been into no mischief whatever. She convinced herself of it -and cried into her handkerchief as if the very suggestion was more -than she could endure. So Wilson was reduced to a man "deranged by -grief" in order that the case might remain in its simplest form. And -it rested there. - -But all this part of it seemed remote and unessential. I found myself on -Gatsby's side, and alone. From the moment I telephoned news of -the catastrophe to West Egg village, every surmise about him, and -every practical question, was referred to me. At first I was surprised and -confused; then, as he lay in his house and didn't move or breathe or -speak hour upon hour it grew upon me that I was responsible, because no -one else was interested--interested, I mean, with that intense personal -interest to which every one has some vague right at the end. - -I called up Daisy half an hour after we found him, called her -instinctively and without hesitation. But she and Tom had gone away -early that afternoon, and taken baggage with them. - -"Left no address?" - -"No." - -"Say when they'd be back?" - -"No." - -"Any idea where they are? How I could reach them?" - -"I don't know. Can't say." - -I wanted to get somebody for him. I wanted to go into the room where he -lay and reassure him: "I'll get somebody for you, Gatsby. Don't worry. -Just trust me and I'll get somebody for you----" - -Meyer Wolfshiem's name wasn't in the phone book. The butler gave me his -office address on Broadway and I called Information, but by the time I -had the number it was long after five and no one answered the phone. - -"Will you ring again?" - -"I've rung them three times." - -"It's very important." - -"Sorry. I'm afraid no one's there." - -I went back to the drawing room and thought for an instant that they were -chance visitors, all these official people who suddenly filled it. But -as they drew back the sheet and looked at Gatsby with unmoved eyes, -his protest continued in my brain. - -"Look here, old sport, you've got to get somebody for me. You've got -to try hard. I can't go through this alone." - -Some one started to ask me questions but I broke away and going upstairs -looked hastily through the unlocked parts of his desk--he'd never told me -definitely that his parents were dead. But there was nothing--only the -picture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence staring down from -the wall. - -Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfshiem -which asked for information and urged him to come out on the next -train. That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it. I was sure he'd -start when he saw the newspapers, just as I was sure there'd be a wire -from Daisy before noon--but neither a wire nor Mr. Wolfshiem arrived, no -one arrived except more police and photographers and newspaper men. -When the butler brought back Wolfshiem's answer I began to have a -feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me -against them all. - - -_Dear Mr. Carraway. This has been one of the most terrible shocks of my -life to me I hardly can believe it that it is true at all. Such a mad -act as that man did should make us all think. I cannot come down now as -I am tied up in some very important business and cannot get mixed up in -this thing now. If there is anything I can do a little later let me -know in a letter by Edgar. I hardly know where I am when I hear about a -thing like this and am completely knocked down and out. - - Yours truly - MEYER WOLFSHIEM_ - -and then hasty addenda beneath: - -_Let me know about the funeral etc do not know his family at all._ - - -When the phone rang that afternoon and Long Distance said Chicago was -calling I thought this would be Daisy at last. But the connection came -through as a man's voice, very thin and far away. - -"This is Slagle speaking. . . ." - -"Yes?" The name was unfamiliar. - -"Hell of a note, isn't it? Get my wire?" - -"There haven't been any wires." - -"Young Parke's in trouble," he said rapidly. "They picked him up when he -handed the bonds over the counter. They got a circular from New York -giving 'em the numbers just five minutes before. What d'you know about -that, hey? You never can tell in these hick towns----" - -"Hello!" I interrupted breathlessly. "Look here--this isn't Mr. Gatsby. -Mr. Gatsby's dead." - -There was a long silence on the other end of the wire, followed by an -exclamation . . . then a quick squawk as the connection was broken. - - -I think it was on the third day that a telegram signed Henry C. Gatz -arrived from a town in Minnesota. It said only that the sender was -leaving immediately and to postpone the funeral until he came. - -It was Gatsby's father, a solemn old man very helpless and dismayed, -bundled up in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day. His -eyes leaked continuously with excitement and when I took the bag and -umbrella from his hands he began to pull so incessantly at his sparse -grey beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat. He was on the -point of collapse so I took him into the music room and made him sit -down while I sent for something to eat. But he wouldn't eat and the -glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand. - -"I saw it in the Chicago newspaper," he said. "It was all in the Chicago -newspaper. I started right away." - -"I didn't know how to reach you." - -His eyes, seeing nothing, moved ceaselessly about the room. - -"It was a mad man," he said. "He must have been mad." - -"Wouldn't you like some coffee?" I urged him. - -"I don't want anything. I'm all right now, Mr.----" - -"Carraway." - -"Well, I'm all right now. Where have they got Jimmy?" - -I took him into the drawing-room, where his son lay, and left him there. -Some little boys had come up on the steps and were looking into the hall; -when I told them who had arrived they went reluctantly away. - -After a little while Mr. Gatz opened the door and came out, his mouth -ajar, his face flushed slightly, his eyes leaking isolated and -unpunctual tears. He had reached an age where death no longer has the -quality of ghastly surprise, and when he looked around him now for the -first time and saw the height and splendor of the hall and the great -rooms opening out from it into other rooms his grief began to be mixed -with an awed pride. I helped him to a bedroom upstairs; while he took -off his coat and vest I told him that all arrangements had been -deferred until he came. - -"I didn't know what you'd want, Mr. Gatsby----" - -"Gatz is my name." - -"--Mr. Gatz. I thought you might want to take the body west." - -He shook his head. - -"Jimmy always liked it better down East. He rose up to his position in -the East. Were you a friend of my boy's, Mr.--?" - -"We were close friends." - -"He had a big future before him, you know. He was only a young man but -he had a lot of brain power here." - -He touched his head impressively and I nodded. - -"If he'd of lived he'd of been a great man. A man like James J. Hill. -He'd of helped build up the country." - -"That's true," I said, uncomfortably. - -He fumbled at the embroidered coverlet, trying to take it from the bed, -and lay down stiffly--was instantly asleep. - -That night an obviously frightened person called up and demanded to know -who I was before he would give his name. - -"This is Mr. Carraway," I said. - -"Oh--" He sounded relieved. "This is Klipspringer." - -I was relieved too for that seemed to promise another friend -at Gatsby's grave. I didn't want it to be in the papers and draw -a sightseeing crowd so I'd been calling up a few people myself. -They were hard to find. - -"The funeral's tomorrow," I said. "Three o'clock, here at the house. -I wish you'd tell anybody who'd be interested." - -"Oh, I will," he broke out hastily. "Of course I'm not likely to see -anybody, but if I do." - -His tone made me suspicious. - -"Of course you'll be there yourself." - -"Well, I'll certainly try. What I called up about is----" - -"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "How about saying you'll come?" - -"Well, the fact is--the truth of the matter is that I'm staying with -some people up here in Greenwich and they rather expect me to be with -them tomorrow. In fact there's a sort of picnic or something. -Of course I'll do my very best to get away." - -I ejaculated an unrestrained "Huh!" and he must have heard me for he went -on nervously: - -"What I called up about was a pair of shoes I left there. I wonder if -it'd be too much trouble to have the butler send them on. You -see they're tennis shoes and I'm sort of helpless without them. My -address is care of B. F.----" - -I didn't hear the rest of the name because I hung up the receiver. - -After that I felt a certain shame for Gatsby--one gentleman to whom I -telephoned implied that he had got what he deserved. However, that was -my fault, for he was one of those who used to sneer most bitterly at -Gatsby on the courage of Gatsby's liquor and I should have known -better than to call him. - -The morning of the funeral I went up to New York to see Meyer -Wolfshiem; I couldn't seem to reach him any other way. The door that I -pushed open on the advice of an elevator boy was marked "The Swastika -Holding Company" and at first there didn't seem to be any one inside. -But when I'd shouted "Hello" several times in vain an argument broke -out behind a partition and presently a lovely Jewess appeared at an -interior door and scrutinized me with black hostile eyes. - -"Nobody's in," she said. "Mr. Wolfshiem's gone to Chicago." - -The first part of this was obviously untrue for someone had begun to -whistle "The Rosary," tunelessly, inside. - -"Please say that Mr. Carraway wants to see him." - -"I can't get him back from Chicago, can I?" - -At this moment a voice, unmistakably Wolfshiem's called "Stella!" -from the other side of the door. - -"Leave your name on the desk," she said quickly. "I'll give it to him -when he gets back." - -"But I know he's there." - -She took a step toward me and began to slide her hands indignantly up -and down her hips. - -"You young men think you can force your way in here any time," she -scolded. "We're getting sickantired of it. When I say he's in Chicago, -he's in ChiCAgo." - -I mentioned Gatsby. - -"Oh--h!" She looked at me over again. "Will you just--what was your name?" - -She vanished. In a moment Meyer Wolfshiem stood solemnly in the doorway, -holding out both hands. He drew me into his office, remarking in a -reverent voice that it was a sad time for all of us, and offered me -a cigar. - -"My memory goes back to when I first met him," he said. "A young -major just out of the army and covered over with medals he got -in the war. He was so hard up he had to keep on wearing his uniform -because he couldn't buy some regular clothes. First time I saw him was -when he come into Winebrenner's poolroom at Forty-third Street and -asked for a job. He hadn't eat anything for a couple of days. 'Come on -have some lunch with me,' I sid. He ate more than four dollars' worth of -food in half an hour." - -"Did you start him in business?" I inquired. - -"Start him! I made him." - -"Oh." - -"I raised him up out of nothing, right out of the gutter. I saw right -away he was a fine appearing, gentlemanly young man, and when he told -me he was an Oggsford I knew I could use him good. I got him to join up -in the American Legion and he used to stand high there. Right off he -did some work for a client of mine up to Albany. We were so thick like -that in everything--" He held up two bulbous fingers "--always -together." - -I wondered if this partnership had included the World's Series transaction -in 1919. - -"Now he's dead," I said after a moment. "You were his closest friend, -so I know you'll want to come to his funeral this afternoon." - -"I'd like to come." - -"Well, come then." - -The hair in his nostrils quivered slightly and as he shook his head his -eyes filled with tears. - -"I can't do it--I can't get mixed up in it," he said. - -"There's nothing to get mixed up in. It's all over now." - -"When a man gets killed I never like to get mixed up in it in any way. -I keep out. When I was a young man it was different--if a friend of mine -died, no matter how, I stuck with them to the end. You may think that's -sentimental but I mean it--to the bitter end." - -I saw that for some reason of his own he was determined not to come, -so I stood up. - -"Are you a college man?" he inquired suddenly. - -For a moment I thought he was going to suggest a "gonnegtion" but he -only nodded and shook my hand. - -"Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not -after he is dead," he suggested. "After that my own rule is to let -everything alone." - -When I left his office the sky had turned dark and I got back to West Egg -in a drizzle. After changing my clothes I went next door and found -Mr. Gatz walking up and down excitedly in the hall. His pride in his -son and in his son's possessions was continually increasing and now he -had something to show me. - -"Jimmy sent me this picture." He took out his wallet with trembling -fingers. "Look there." - -It was a photograph of the house, cracked in the corners and dirty with -many hands. He pointed out every detail to me eagerly. "Look there!" and -then sought admiration from my eyes. He had shown it so often that I think -it was more real to him now than the house itself. - -"Jimmy sent it to me. I think it's a very pretty picture. It shows up -well." - -"Very well. Had you seen him lately?" - -"He come out to see me two years ago and bought me the house I live in -now. Of course we was broke up when he run off from home but I see now -there was a reason for it. He knew he had a big future in front of him. -And ever since he made a success he was very generous with me." - -He seemed reluctant to put away the picture, held it for another minute, -lingeringly, before my eyes. Then he returned the wallet and pulled from -his pocket a ragged old copy of a book called "Hopalong Cassidy." - -"Look here, this is a book he had when he was a boy. It just shows -you." - -He opened it at the back cover and turned it around for me to see. -On the last fly-leaf was printed the word SCHEDULE, and the date -September 12th, 1906. And underneath: - - -Rise from bed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.00 A.M. -Dumbbell exercise and wall-scaling . . . . . . 6.15-6.30 " -Study electricity, etc . . . . . . . . . . . . 7.15-8.15 " -Work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8.30-4.30 P.M. -Baseball and sports . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.30-5.00 " -Practice elocution, poise and how to attain it 5.00-6.00 " -Study needed inventions . . . . . . . . . . . 7.00-9.00 " - - GENERAL RESOLVES - -No wasting time at Shafters or [a name, indecipherable] -No more smokeing or chewing -Bath every other day -Read one improving book or magazine per week -Save $5.00 [crossed out] $3.00 per week -Be better to parents - - -"I come across this book by accident," said the old man. "It just shows -you, don't it?" - -"It just shows you." - -"Jimmy was bound to get ahead. He always had some resolves like this or -something. Do you notice what he's got about improving his mind? He was -always great for that. He told me I et like a hog once and I beat him -for it." - -He was reluctant to close the book, reading each item aloud and then -looking eagerly at me. I think he rather expected me to copy down the -list for my own use. - -A little before three the Lutheran minister arrived from Flushing and -I began to look involuntarily out the windows for other cars. So did -Gatsby's father. And as the time passed and the servants came in and -stood waiting in the hall, his eyes began to blink anxiously and he -spoke of the rain in a worried uncertain way. The minister glanced -several times at his watch so I took him aside and asked him to wait -for half an hour. But it wasn't any use. Nobody came. - - -About five o'clock our procession of three cars reached the cemetery -and stopped in a thick drizzle beside the gate--first a motor hearse, -horribly black and wet, then Mr. Gatz and the minister and I in the -limousine, and, a little later, four or five servants and the postman -from West Egg in Gatsby's station wagon, all wet to the skin. As we -started through the gate into the cemetery I heard a car stop and then -the sound of someone splashing after us over the soggy ground. I looked -around. It was the man with owl-eyed glasses whom I had found -marvelling over Gatsby's books in the library one night three months -before. - -I'd never seen him since then. I don't know how he knew about the -funeral or even his name. The rain poured down his thick glasses and -he took them off and wiped them to see the protecting canvas unrolled -from Gatsby's grave. - -I tried to think about Gatsby then for a moment but he was already too -far away and I could only remember, without resentment, that Daisy -hadn't sent a message or a flower. Dimly I heard someone murmur -"Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on," and then the owl-eyed -man said "Amen to that," in a brave voice. - -We straggled down quickly through the rain to the cars. Owl-Eyes spoke -to me by the gate. - -"I couldn't get to the house," he remarked. - -"Neither could anybody else." - -"Go on!" He started. "Why, my God! they used to go there by the -hundreds." - -He took off his glasses and wiped them again outside and in. - -"The poor son-of-a-bitch," he said. - - -One of my most vivid memories is of coming back west from prep school -and later from college at Christmas time. Those who went farther than -Chicago would gather in the old dim Union Station at six o'clock of a -December evening with a few Chicago friends already caught up into -their own holiday gayeties to bid them a hasty goodbye. I remember -the fur coats of the girls returning from Miss This or That's and -the chatter of frozen breath and the hands waving overhead as -we caught sight of old acquaintances and the matchings of invitations: -"Are you going to the Ordways'? the Herseys'? the Schultzes'?" -and the long green tickets clasped tight in our gloved hands. -And last the murky yellow cars of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul -Railroad looking cheerful as Christmas itself on the tracks beside -the gate. - -When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, -began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the -dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace -came suddenly into the air. We drew in deep breaths of it as we walked -back from dinner through the cold vestibules, unutterably aware of our -identity with this country for one strange hour before we melted -indistinguishably into it again. - -That's my middle west--not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede -towns but the thrilling, returning trains of my youth and the street -lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly -wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow. I am part of that, a -little solemn with the feel of those long winters, a little complacent -from growing up in the Carraway house in a city where dwellings are -still called through decades by a family's name. I see now that this -has been a story of the West, after all--Tom and Gatsby, Daisy and -Jordan and I, were all Westerners, and perhaps we possessed some -deficiency in common which made us subtly unadaptable to Eastern life. - -Even when the East excited me most, even when I was most keenly aware -of its superiority to the bored, sprawling, swollen towns beyond the -Ohio, with their interminable inquisitions which spared only the -children and the very old--even then it had always for me a quality of -distortion. West Egg especially still figures in my more fantastic -dreams. I see it as a night scene by El Greco: a hundred houses, at -once conventional and grotesque, crouching under a sullen, overhanging -sky and a lustreless moon. In the foreground four solemn men in dress -suits are walking along the sidewalk with a stretcher on which lies a -drunken woman in a white evening dress. Her hand, which dangles over -the side, sparkles cold with jewels. Gravely the men turn in at a -house--the wrong house. But no one knows the woman's name, and no one -cares. - -After Gatsby's death the East was haunted for me like that, distorted -beyond my eyes' power of correction. So when the blue smoke of brittle -leaves was in the air and the wind blew the wet laundry stiff on the -line I decided to come back home. - -There was one thing to be done before I left, an awkward, unpleasant -thing that perhaps had better have been let alone. But I wanted to -leave things in order and not just trust that obliging and indifferent -sea to sweep my refuse away. I saw Jordan Baker and talked over and -around what had happened to us together and what had happened -afterward to me, and she lay perfectly still listening in a big -chair. - -She was dressed to play golf and I remember thinking she looked like a -good illustration, her chin raised a little, jauntily, her hair the -color of an autumn leaf, her face the same brown tint as the fingerless -glove on her knee. When I had finished she told me without comment that -she was engaged to another man. I doubted that though there were -several she could have married at a nod of her head but I pretended to -be surprised. For just a minute I wondered if I wasn't making a -mistake, then I thought it all over again quickly and got up to say -goodbye. - -"Nevertheless you did throw me over," said Jordan suddenly. "You threw me -over on the telephone. I don't give a damn about you now but it was a -new experience for me and I felt a little dizzy for a while." - -We shook hands. - -"Oh, and do you remember--" she added, "----a conversation we had once -about driving a car?" - -"Why--not exactly." - -"You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? -Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I? I mean it was careless of me -to make such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, -straightforward person. I thought it was your secret pride." - -"I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call -it honor." - -She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously -sorry, I turned away. - - -One afternoon late in October I saw Tom Buchanan. He was walking ahead -of me along Fifth Avenue in his alert, aggressive way, his hands out a -little from his body as if to fight off interference, his head moving -sharply here and there, adapting itself to his restless eyes. Just as I -slowed up to avoid overtaking him he stopped and began frowning into -the windows of a jewelry store. Suddenly he saw me and walked back -holding out his hand. - -"What's the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me?" - -"Yes. You know what I think of you." - -"You're crazy, Nick," he said quickly. "Crazy as hell. I don't know -what's the matter with you." - -"Tom," I inquired, "what did you say to Wilson that afternoon?" - -He stared at me without a word and I knew I had guessed right about -those missing hours. I started to turn away but he took a step after me -and grabbed my arm. - -"I told him the truth," he said. "He came to the door while we were -getting ready to leave and when I sent down word that we weren't in he -tried to force his way upstairs. He was crazy enough to kill me if I -hadn't told him who owned the car. His hand was on a revolver in his -pocket every minute he was in the house----" He broke off defiantly. -"What if I did tell him? That fellow had it coming to him. He threw -dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy's but he was a tough -one. He ran over Myrtle like you'd run over a dog and never even stopped -his car." - -There was nothing I could say, except the one unutterable fact -that it wasn't true. - -"And if you think I didn't have my share of suffering--look here, when I -went to give up that flat and saw that damn box of dog biscuits sitting -there on the sideboard I sat down and cried like a baby. By God it -was awful----" - -I couldn't forgive him or like him but I saw that what he had done was, -to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. -They were careless people, Tom and Daisy--they smashed up things and -creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast -carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other -people clean up the mess they had made. . . . - -I shook hands with him; it seemed silly not to, for I felt suddenly as -though I were talking to a child. Then he went into the jewelry store to -buy a pearl necklace--or perhaps only a pair of cuff buttons--rid of my -provincial squeamishness forever. - - -Gatsby's house was still empty when I left--the grass on his lawn had -grown as long as mine. One of the taxi drivers in the village never -took a fare past the entrance gate without stopping for a minute and -pointing inside; perhaps it was he who drove Daisy and Gatsby over to -East Egg the night of the accident and perhaps he had made a story -about it all his own. I didn't want to hear it and I avoided him when I -got off the train. - -I spent my Saturday nights in New York because those gleaming, dazzling -parties of his were with me so vividly that I could still hear the -music and the laughter faint and incessant from his garden and the -cars going up and down his drive. One night I did hear a material car -there and saw its lights stop at his front steps. But I didn't -investigate. Probably it was some final guest who had been away at the -ends of the earth and didn't know that the party was over. - -On the last night, with my trunk packed and my car sold to the grocer, -I went over and looked at that huge incoherent failure of a house once -more. On the white steps an obscene word, scrawled by some boy with a -piece of brick, stood out clearly in the moonlight and I erased it, -drawing my shoe raspingly along the stone. Then I wandered down to the -beach and sprawled out on the sand. - -Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any -lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. -And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away -until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered -once for Dutch sailors' eyes--a fresh, green breast of the new world. -Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby's house, had -once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; -for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the -presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation -he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in -history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder. - -And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of -Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of -Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must -have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not -know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity -beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under -the night. - -Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by -year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow -we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine -morning---- - -So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into -the past. - - - -THE END -- 2.47.0