Читать книгу Великий Гэтсби / The Great Gatsby онлайн

Mrs. Wilson had changed her costume and her personality had also changed. Her intense vitality that had been so remarkable in the garage was converted into impressive hauteur. Her laughter and her gestures became different.

“My dear,” she told her sister, “most of these people will cheat you every time. All they think of is money.”

“I like your dress,” remarked Mrs. McKee, “I think it's wonderful.”

Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment.

“It's just a crazy old thing,” she said. “I put it on sometimes when I don't care what I look like.”

“But it looks wonderful on you, if you know what I mean,” pursued Mrs. McKee. “If Chester could only get you in that pose!”

We all looked in silence at Mrs. Wilson who looked back at us with a brilliant smile. Mr. McKee regarded her intently.

“I would change the light,” he said after a moment.

“I wouldn't think it's reasonable,” cried Mrs. McKee. “I think it's…”

Her husband said “Sh!” and we all looked at the subject again whereupon Tom Buchanan yawned and got to his feet.

“You McKees have something to drink,” he said. “Get some more ice and mineral water, Myrtle.”

Myrtle raised her eyebrows, then she kissed the dog and went to the kitchen.

“I've done some nice things out on Long Island,” said Mr. McKee.

Tom looked at him.

“Two of them we have downstairs.”

“Two what?” demanded Tom.

“Two pictures. One of them I call 'Montauk Point – the Gulls,' and the other I call 'Montauk Point – the Sea.'”

The sister Catherine sat down beside me on the couch.

“Where do you live? On Long Island, too?” she inquired.

“I live at West Egg.”

“Really? I was down there at a party about a month ago. At a man named Gatsby's. Do you know him?”

“I live next door to him.”

“Well, they say he's a nephew or a cousin of Kaiser Wilhelm's. That's where all his money comes from.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“I'm scared of him.”

Mr. McKee said, “I'd like to do more work on Long Island. All I need is a start.”

“Ask Myrtle,” said Tom. “She'll give you a letter of introduction, won't you, Myrtle?”