Великий Гэтсби

           ButasIwalkeddownthestepsIsawthattheeveningwasnotquiteover.Fiftyfeetfromthedooradozenheadlightsilluminatedabizarreandtumultuousscene.Intheditchbesidetheroad,rightsideup,butviolentlyshornofonewheel,restedanewcoupewhichhadleftGatsby’sdrivenottwominutesbefore.Thesharpjutofawallaccountedforthedetachmentofthewheel,whichwasnowgettingconsiderableattentionfromhalfadozencuriouschauffeurs.However,astheyhadlefttheircarsblockingtheroad,aharsh,discordantdinfromthoseintherearhadbeenaudibleforsometime,andaddedtothealreadyviolentconfusionofthescene.

           Amaninalongdusterhaddismountedfromthewreckandnowstoodinthemiddleoftheroad,lookingfromthecartothetireandfromthetiretotheobserversinapleasant,puzzledway.

           "See!"heexplained."Itwentintheditch."

           Thefactwasinfinitelyastonishingtohim,andIrecognizedfirsttheunusualqualityofwonder,andthentheman—itwasthelatepatronofGatsby’slibrary.

           "How’dithappen?"

           Heshruggedhisshoulders.

           "Iknownothingwhateveraboutmechanics,"hesaiddecisively.

           "Buthowdidithappen?Didyourunintothewall?""Don’taskme,"saidOwlEyes,washinghishandsofthewholematter."Iknowverylittleaboutdriving—nexttonothing.Ithappened,andthat’sallIknow."

           "Well,ifyou’reapoordriveryououghtn’ttotrydrivingatnight."