Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн на КулЛиб

“Tom is becoming a wise man,” said Daisy with an expression of sadness. “He reads clever books with long words in them. What was that word…”

“Well, these books are all scientific,” insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. “We, the dominant race, must watch out or these other races will have control of things.”

“If you lived in California – ” began Miss Baker but Tom interrupted her.

“This idea is that we – I, you, and you – 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 words. Suddenly the telephone rang and Tom left.

Daisy leaned toward me.

“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. Then she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.

Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance devoid of meaning.

“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.

“Don't you know?” said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. “I thought everybody knew.”

“I don't.”

“Tom's got some woman in New York,” said Miss Baker.

“Got some woman?” I repeated.

Miss Baker nodded.

“She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner-time. Don't you think?”

Tom and Daisy were back at the table.

Daisy sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me and said: “I looked outdoors for a minute and it's very romantic outdoors. There's a bird on the lawn, I think, a nightingale. He's singing so sweetly! It's romantic, isn't it, Tom?”