Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн на КулЛиб

“You told us.”

We shook hands with him gravely and went back outdoors.

I tried to find the host. I was still with Jordan Baker. We were sitting at a table with a man of about my age and a girl who was laughing all the time. I was enjoying myself now. I had taken two glasses of champagne.

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 Battalion.”

“Oh! And I was in the Seventh Battalion. I knew I'd seen you somewhere before.”

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?”

“What time?”

“Any time that suits you best.”

I wanted to ask his name when Jordan looked around and smiled.

“Are you having a good time?” she inquired.

“Yes, I am.” 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, 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. It was one of those rare smiles, that you may come across four or five times in life. Almost at the moment when Mr. Gatsby identified himself a servant hurried toward him with the information that Chicago was calling him on the wire. He excused himself with a small bow.