Chapter 7

           ItwaswhencuriosityaboutGatsbywasatitshighestthatthelightsinhishousefailedtogoononeSaturdaynight—and,asobscurelyasithadbegun,hiscareerasTrimalchiowasover.OnlygraduallydidIbecomeawarethattheautomobileswhichturnedexpectantlyintohisdrivestayedforjustaminuteandthendrovesulkilyaway.WonderingifheweresickIwentovertofindout—anunfamiliarbutlerwithavillainousfacesquintedatmesuspiciouslyfromthedoor.

           "IsMr.Gatsbysick?"

           "Nope."Afterapauseheadded"sir"inadilatory,grudgingway.

           "Ihadn’tseenhimaround,andIwasratherworried.TellhimMr.Carrawaycameover."

           "Who?"hedemandedrudely.

           "Carraway."

           "Carraway.Allright,I’lltellhim."Abruptlyheslammedthedoor.

           MyFinninformedmethatGatsbyhaddismissedeveryservantinhishouseaweekagoandreplacedthemwithhalfadozenothers,whoneverwentintoWestEggVillagetobebribedbythetradesmen,butorderedmoderatesuppliesoverthetelephone.Thegroceryboyreportedthatthekitchenlookedlikeapigsty,andthegeneralopinioninthevillagewasthatthenewpeopleweren’tservantsatall.

           NextdayGatsbycalledmeonthephone.

           "Goingaway?"Iinquired.