Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн на КулЛиб

Mr. McKee was most respectful in his greeting to everyone in the room. He informed me that he belonged to the “world of art” and I learned later that he was a photographer. 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 and her personality had also changed. Her intense vitality that had been so remarkable in the garage was converted into impressive hauteur. Her laughter and her gestures became different.

“My dear,” she told her sister, “most of these people will cheat you every time. All they think of is money.”

“I like your dress,” remarked Mrs. McKee, “I think it's wonderful.”

Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment.

“It's just a crazy old thing,” she said. “I put 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!”

We all looked in silence at Mrs. Wilson who looked back at us with a brilliant smile. Mr. McKee regarded her intently.

“I would change the light,” he said after a moment.

“I wouldn't think it's reasonable,” cried Mrs. McKee. “I think it's…”

Her husband said “Sh!” and we all looked at the subject again whereupon Tom Buchanan yawned and got to his feet.

“You McKees have something to drink,” he said. “Get some more ice and mineral water, Myrtle.”

Myrtle raised her eyebrows, then she kissed the dog and went to the kitchen.