III

Therewasmusicfrommyneighbour’shousethroughthesummernights.Inhisbluegardensmenandgirlscameandwentlikemothsamongthewhisperingsandthechampagneandthestars.AthightideintheafternoonIwatchedhisguestsdivingfromthetowerofhisraft,ortakingthesunonthehotsandofhisbeachwhilehistwomotorboatsslitthewatersoftheSound,drawingaquaplanesovercataractsoffoam.OnweekendshisRolls-Roycebecameanomnibus,bearingpartiestoandfromthecitybetweennineinthemorningandlongpastmidnight,whilehisstationwagonscamperedlikeabriskyellowbugtomeetalltrains.AndonMondayseightservants,includinganextragardener,toiledalldaywithmopsandscrubbing-brushesandhammersandgarden-shears,repairingtheravagesofthenightbefore. EveryFridayfivecratesoforangesandlemonsarrivedfromafruitererinNewYork—everyMondaythesesameorangesandlemonslefthisbackdoorinapyramidofpulplesshalves.Therewasamachineinthekitchenwhichcouldextractthejuiceoftwohundredorangesinhalfanhourifalittlebuttonwaspressedtwohundredtimesbyabutler’sthumb. AtleastonceafortnightacorpsofcatererscamedownwithseveralhundredfeetofcanvasandenoughcolouredlightstomakeaChristmastreeofGatsby’senormousgarden.Onbuffettables,garnishedwithglisteninghors-d’oeuvre,spicedbakedhamscrowdedagainstsaladsofharlequindesignsandpastrypigsandturkeysbewitchedtoadarkgold.Inthemainhallabarwitharealbrassrailwassetup,andstockedwithginsandliquorsandwithcordialssolongforgottenthatmostofhisfemaleguestsweretooyoungtoknowonefromanother. Byseveno’clocktheorchestrahasarrived,nothinfive-pieceaffair,butawholepitfulofoboesandtrombonesandsaxophonesandviolsandcornetsandpiccolos,andlowandhighdrums.ThelastswimmershavecomeinfromthebeachnowandaredressingupstairsthecarsfromNewYorkareparkedfivedeepinthedrive,andalreadythehallsandsalonsandverandasaregaudywithprimarycolours,andhairbobbedinstrangenewways,andshawlsbeyondthedreamsofCastile.Thebarisinfullswing,andfloatingroundsofcocktailspermeatethegardenoutside,untiltheairisalivewithchatterandlaughter,andcasualinnuendoandintroductionsforgottenonthespot,andenthusiasticmeetingsbetweenwomenwhoneverkneweachother’snames. Thelightsgrowbrighterastheearthlurchesawayfromthesun,andnowtheorchestraisplayingyellowcocktailmusic,andtheoperaofvoicespitchesakeyhigher.Laughteriseasierminutebyminute,spilledwithprodigality,tippedoutatacheerfulword.Thegroupschangemoreswiftly,swellwithnewarrivals,dissolveandforminthesamebreathalreadytherearewanderers,confidentgirlswhoweavehereandthereamongthestouterandmorestable,becomeforasharp,joyousmomentthecentreofagroup,andthen,excitedwithtriumph,glideonthroughthesea-changeoffacesandvoicesandcolourundertheconstantlychanginglight. Suddenlyoneofthesegypsies,intremblingopal,seizesacocktailoutoftheair,dumpsitdownforcourageand,movingherhandslikeFrisco,dancesoutaloneonthecanvasplatform.Amomentaryhushtheorchestraleadervarieshisrhythmobliginglyforher,andthereisaburstofchatterastheerroneousnewsgoesaroundthatsheisGildaGray’sunderstudyfromtheFollies.Thepartyhasbegun. IbelievethatonthefirstnightIwenttoGatsby’shouseIwasoneofthefewguestswhohadactuallybeeninvited.Peoplewerenotinvited—theywentthere.TheygotintoautomobileswhichborethemouttoLongIsland,andsomehowtheyendedupatGatsby’sdoor.OncetheretheywereintroducedbysomebodywhoknewGatsby,andafterthattheyconductedthemselvesaccordingtotherulesofbehaviourassociatedwithanamusementpark.SometimestheycameandwentwithouthavingmetGatsbyatall,cameforthepartywithasimplicityofheartthatwasitsownticketofadmission. Ihadbeenactuallyinvited.Achauffeurinauniformofrobin’s-eggbluecrossedmylawnearlythatSaturdaymorningwithasurprisinglyformalnotefromhisemployer:thehonourwouldbeentirelyGatsby’s,itsaid,ifIwouldattendhis“littleparty”thatnight.Hehadseenmeseveraltimes,andhadintendedtocallonmelongbefore,butapeculiarcombinationofcircumstanceshadpreventedit—signedJayGatsby,inamajestichand. DressedupinwhiteflannelsIwentovertohislawnalittleafterseven,andwanderedaroundratherillateaseamongswirlsandeddiesofpeopleIdidn’tknow—thoughhereandtherewasafaceIhadnoticedonthecommutingtrain.IwasimmediatelystruckbythenumberofyoungEnglishmendottedaboutallwelldressed,alllookingalittlehungry,andalltalkinginlow,earnestvoicestosolidandprosperousAmericans.Iwassurethattheyweresellingsomething:bondsorinsuranceorautomobiles.Theywereatleastagonizinglyawareoftheeasymoneyinthevicinityandconvincedthatitwastheirsforafewwordsintherightkey. AssoonasIarrivedImadeanattempttofindmyhost,butthetwoorthreepeopleofwhomIaskedhiswhereaboutsstaredatmeinsuchanamazedway,anddeniedsovehementlyanyknowledgeofhismovements,thatIslunkoffinthedirectionofthecocktailtable—theonlyplaceinthegardenwhereasinglemancouldlingerwithoutlookingpurposelessandalone. IwasonmywaytogetroaringdrunkfromsheerembarrassmentwhenJordanBakercameoutofthehouseandstoodattheheadofthemarblesteps,leaningalittlebackwardandlookingwithcontemptuousinterestdownintothegarden. Welcomeornot,IfounditnecessarytoattachmyselftosomeonebeforeIshouldbegintoaddresscordialremarkstothepassersby. “Hello!”Iroared,advancingtowardher.Myvoiceseemedunnaturallyloudacrossthegarden. “Ithoughtyoumightbehere,”sherespondedabsentlyasIcameup.“Irememberedyoulivednextdoorto—” Sheheldmyhandimpersonally,asapromisethatshe’dtakecareofmeinaminute,andgaveeartotwogirlsintwinyellowdresses,whostoppedatthefootofthesteps. “Hello!”theycriedtogether.“Sorryyoudidn’twin.” Thatwasforthegolftournament.Shehadlostinthefinalstheweekbefore. “Youdon’tknowwhoweare,”saidoneofthegirlsinyellow,“butwemetyouhereaboutamonthago.” “You’vedyedyourhairsincethen,”