Великий Гэтсби

           AllnightthesaxophoneswailedthehopelesscommentoftheBealeStreetBlueswhileahundredpairsofgoldenandsilverslippersshuffledtheshiningdust.Atthegrayteahourtherewerealwaysroomsthatthrobbedincessantlywiththislow,sweetfever,whilefreshfacesdriftedhereandtherelikerosepetalsblownbythesadhornsaroundthefloor.

           ThroughthistwilightuniverseDaisybegantomoveagainwiththeseason;suddenlyshewasagainkeepinghalfadozendatesadaywithhalfadozenmen,anddrowsingasleepatdawnwiththebeadsandchiffonofaneveningdresstangledamongdyingorchidsonthefloorbesideherbed.Andallthetimesomethingwithinherwascryingforadecision.Shewantedherlifeshapednow,immediately—andthedecisionmustbemadebysomeforce—oflove,ofmoney,ofunquestionablepracticality—thatwascloseathand.

           ThatforcetookshapeinthemiddleofspringwiththearrivalofTomBuchanan.Therewasawholesomebulkinessabouthispersonandhisposition,andDaisywasflattered.Doubtlesstherewasacertainstruggleandacertainrelief.TheletterreachedGatsbywhilehewasstillatOxford.

           ItwasdawnnowonLongIslandandwewentaboutopeningtherestofthewindowsdown-stairs,fillingthehousewithgray-turning,gold-turninglight.Theshadowofatreefellabruptlyacrossthedewandghostlybirdsbegantosingamongtheblueleaves.Therewasaslow,pleasantmovementintheair,scarcelyawind,promisingacool,lovelyday.

           "Idon’tthinksheeverlovedhim."Gatsbyturnedaroundfromawindowandlookedatmechallengingly."Youmustremember,oldsport,shewasveryexcitedthisafternoon.