Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн на КулЛиб

“Well!” I inspected them. “That's a very interesting idea.”

“Yeah. You know, Gatsby's very careful about women. He will never look at a friend's wife.”

When Gatsby returned to the table and sat down, Mr. Wolfsheim drank his coffee and stood up.

“Thank you for the company,” he said.

“Don't hurry, Meyer,” said Gatsby, without enthusiasm.

“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… As for me, I am fifty years old.”

He shook hands and turned away.

“He becomes very sentimental sometimes,” explained Gatsby. “This is one of his sentimental days. He's well-know in New York.”

“Who is he anyhow – an actor?”

“No.”

“A dentist?”

“Meyer Wolfsheim? No, he's a gambler.”

I noticed Tom Buchanan.

“Come along with me for a minute,” I said. “I'll say hello to someone.”

When he saw us Tom jumped up.

“Where've you been?” he demanded eagerly. “Daisy's furious because you disappeared.”

“This is Mr. Gatsby, Mr. Buchanan.”

They shook hands briefly.

“How've you been, anyhow?” demanded Tom of me. “Why did I meet you here?”

“I was 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. I saw the red, white and blue banners in front of all the houses. The largest of the banners belonged to Daisy Fay's house. She was just eighteen, two years older than me, and the most popular of all the young girls in Louisville. She was wearing white dresses, and the telephone rang in her house all day long.