Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн на КулЛиб

“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. She turned to her companion: “You too, Lucille?”

Of course, Lucille, too.

“I like to come here,” 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 – and in some days I got a package with a new evening gown in it.”

“Did you accept it?” asked Jordan.

“Sure I did. I was going to wear it tonight, but it was too big for me. Two hundred and sixty-five dollars.”

“He doesn't want any trouble,” said the other girl eagerly, “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.”

“I don't think it's so much THAT,” argued Lucille sceptically; “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, he grew up with him in Germany,” he assured us.

“Oh, no,” said the first girl, “it couldn't be that, because he was in the American army during the war. But just look at him sometimes when he thinks nobody's looking at him. I'll bet he killed a man.”

We all turned and looked around for Gatsby.

The first supper – there would be another one after midnight – was now being served, and Jordan invited me to join her around a table on the other side of the garden.