Великий Гэтсби
Chapter 7
MyrtleWilson’sbody,wrappedinablanket,andtheninanotherblanket,asthoughshesufferedfromachillinthehotnight,layonawork-tablebythewall,andTom,withhisbacktous,wasbendingoverit,motionless.Nexttohimstoodamotorcyclepolicemantakingdownnameswithmuchsweatandcorrectioninalittlebook.AtfirstIcouldn’tfindthesourceofthehigh,groaningwordsthatechoedclamorouslythroughthebaregarage—thenIsawWilsonstandingontheraisedthresholdofhisoffice,swayingbackandforthandholdingtothedoorpostswithbothhands.Somemanwastalkingtohiminalowvoiceandattempting,fromtimetotime,tolayahandonhisshoulder,butWilsonneitherheardnorsaw.Hiseyeswoulddropslowlyfromtheswinginglighttotheladentablebythewall,andthenjerkbacktothelightagain,andhegaveoutincessantlyhishigh,horriblecall:
"Oh,myGa-od!Oh,myGa-od!oh,Ga-od!oh,myGa-od!"
PresentlyTomliftedhisheadwithajerkand,afterstaringaroundthegaragewithglazedeyes,addressedamumbledincoherentremarktothepoliceman.
"M-a-y-,"thepolicemanwassaying,"-o——"
"No,r-,"correctedtheman,"M-a-v-r-o——"
"Listentome!"mutteredTomfiercely.
"r"saidthepoliceman,"o——"
"g——"
"g——"HelookedupasTom’sbroadhandfellsharplyonhisshoulder."Whatyouwant,fella?"
