VII
關燈
小
中
大
razyidea”—wealltalkedatoncetoabaffledclerkandthought,orpretendedtothink,thatwewerebeingveryfunny…
Theroomwaslargeandstifling,and,thoughitwasalreadyfouro’clock,openingthewindowsadmittedonlyagustofhotshrubberyfromthePark.Daisywenttothemirrorandstoodwithherbacktous,fixingherhair.
“It’saswellsuite,”whisperedJordanrespectfully,andeveryonelaughed.
“Openanotherwindow,”commandedDaisy,withoutturningaround.
“Therearen’tanymore.”
“Well,we’dbettertelephoneforanaxe—”
“Thethingtodoistoforgetabouttheheat,”saidTomimpatiently.“Youmakeittentimesworsebycrabbingaboutit.”
Heunrolledthebottleofwhiskyfromthetowelandputitonthetable.
“Whynotletheralone,oldsport?”remarkedGatsby.“You’retheonethatwantedtocometotown.”
Therewasamomentofsilence.Thetelephonebookslippedfromitsnailandsplashedtothefloor,whereuponJordanwhispered,“Excuseme”—butthistimenoonelaughed.
“I’llpickitup,”Ioffered.
“I’vegotit.”Gatsbyexaminedthepartedstring,muttered“Hum!”inaninterestedway,andtossedthebookonachair.
“That’sagreatexpressionofyours,isn’tit?”saidTomsharply.
“Whatis?”
“Allthis‘oldsport’business.Where’dyoupickthatup?”
“Nowseehere,Tom,”saidDaisy,turningaroundfromthemirror,“ifyou’regoingtomakepersonalremarksIwon’tstayhereaminute.Callupandordersomeiceforthemintjulep.”
AsTomtookupthereceiverthecompressedheatexplodedintosoundandwewerelisteningtotheportentouschordsofMendelssohn’sWeddingMarchfromtheballroombelow.
“Imaginemarryinganybodyinthisheat!”criedJordandismally.
“Still—IwasmarriedinthemiddleofJune,”Daisyremembered.“LouisvilleinJune!Somebodyfainted.Whowasitfainted,Tom?”
“Biloxi,”heansweredshortly.
“AmannamedBiloxi.‘Blocks’Biloxi,andhemadeboxes—that’safact—andhewasfromBiloxi,Tennessee.”
“Theycarriedhimintomyhouse,”appendedJordan,“becausewelivedjusttwodoorsfromthechurch.Andhestayedthreeweeks,untilDaddytoldhimhehadtogetout.ThedayafterheleftDaddydied.”Afteramomentsheadded.“Therewasn’tanyconnection.”
“IusedtoknowaBillBiloxifromMemphis,”Iremarked.
“Thatwashiscousin.Iknewhiswholefamilyhistorybeforeheleft.HegavemeanaluminiumputterthatIusetoday.”
Themusichaddieddownastheceremonybeganandnowalongcheerfloatedinatthewindow,followedbyintermittentcriesof“Yea—ea—ea!”andfinallybyaburstofjazzasthedancingbegan.
“We’regettingold,”saidDaisy.“Ifwewereyoungwe’driseanddance.”
“RememberBiloxi,”Jordanwarnedher.“Where’dyouknowhim,Tom?”
“Biloxi?”Heconcentratedwithaneffort.“Ididn’tknowhim.HewasafriendofDaisy’s.”
“Hewasnot,”shedenied.“I’dneverseenhimbefore.Hecamedownintheprivatecar.”
“Well,hesaidheknewyou.HesaidhewasraisedinLouisville.AsaBirdbroughthimaroundatthelastminuteandaskedifwehadroomforhim.”
Jordansmiled.
“Hewasprobablybumminghiswayhome.HetoldmehewaspresidentofyourclassatYale.”
TomandIlookedateachotherblankly.
“Biloxi?”
“Firstplace,wedidn’thaveanypresident—”
Gatsby’sfootbeatashort,restlesstattooandTomeyedhimsuddenly.
“Bytheway,Mr.Gatsby,Iunderstandyou’reanOxfordman.”
“Notexactly.”
“Oh,yes,IunderstandyouwenttoOxford.”
“Yes—Iwentthere.”
Apause.ThenTom’svoice,incredulousandinsulting:
“YoumusthavegonethereaboutthetimeBiloxiwenttoNewHaven.”
Anotherpause.Awaiterknockedandcameinwithcrushedmintandicebutthesilencewasunbrokenbyhis“thankyou”andthesoftclosingofthedoor.Thistremendousdetailwastobeclearedupatlast.
“ItoldyouIwentthere,”saidGatsby.
“Iheardyou,butI’dliketoknowwhen.”
“Itwasinnineteen-nineteen,Ionlystayedfivemonths.That’swhyIcan’treallycallmyselfanOxfordman.”
Tomglancedaroundtoseeifwemirroredhisunbelief.ButwewerealllookingatGatsby.
“Itwasanopportunitytheygavetosomeoftheofficersafterthearmistice,”hecontinued.“WecouldgotoanyoftheuniversitiesinEnglandorFrance.”
Iwantedtogetupandslaphimontheback.IhadoneofthoserenewalsofcompletefaithinhimthatI’dexperiencedbefore.
Daisyrose,smilingfaintly,andwenttothetable.
“Openthewhisky,Tom,”sheordered,“andI’llmakeyouamintjulep.Thenyouwon’tseemsostupidtoyourself…Lookatthemint!”
“Waitaminute,”snappedTom,“IwanttoaskMr.Gatsbyonemorequestion.”
“Goon,”Gatsbysaidpolitely.
“Whatkindofarowareyoutryingtocauseinmyhouseanyhow?”
TheywereoutintheopenatlastandGatsbywascontent.
“Heisn’tcausingarow,”Daisylookeddesperatelyfromonetotheother.“You’recausingarow.Pleasehavealittleself-control.”
“Self-control!”repeatedTomincredulously.“IsupposethelatestthingistositbackandletMr.NobodyfromNowheremakelovetoyourwife.Well,ifthat’stheideayoucancountmeout…Nowadayspeoplebeginbysneeringatfamilylifeandfamilyinstitutions,andnextthey’llthroweverythingoverboardandhaveintermarriagebetweenblackandwhite.”
Flushedwithhisimpassionedgibberish,hesawhimselfstandingaloneonthelastbarrierofcivilization.
“We’reallwhitehere,”murmuredJordan.
“IknowI’mnotverypopular.Idon’tgivebigparties.Isupposeyou’vegottomakeyourhouseintoapigstyinordertohaveanyfriends—inthemodernworld.”
AngryasIwas,asweallwere,Iwastemptedtolaughwheneverheopenedhismouth.Thetransitionfromlibertinetoprigwassocomplete.
“I’vegotsomethingtotellyou,oldsport—”beganGatsby.ButDaisyguessedathisintention.
“Pleasedon’t!”sheinterruptedhelplessly.“Pleaselet’sallgohome.Whydon’tweallgohome?”
“That’sagoodidea,”Igotup.“Comeon,Tom.Nobodywantsadrink.”
“IwanttoknowwhatMr.Gatsbyhastotellme.”
“Yourwifedoesn’tloveyou,”saidGatsby.“She’sneverlovedyou.Shelovesme.”
“Youmustbecrazy!”exclaimedTomautomatically.
Gatsbysprangtohisfeet,vividwithexcitement.
“Sheneverlovedyou,doyouhear?”hecried.“SheonlymarriedyoubecauseIwaspoorandshewastiredofwaitingforme.Itwasaterriblemistake,butinherheartsheneverlovedanyoneexceptme!”
AtthispointJordanandItriedtogo,butTomandGatsbyinsistedwithcompetitivefirmnessthatweremain—asthoughneitherofthemhadanythingtoconcealanditwouldbeaprivilegetopartakevicariouslyoftheiremotions.
“Sitdown,Daisy,”Tom’svoicegropedunsuccessfullyforthepaternalnote.“What’sbeengoingon?Iwanttohearallaboutit.”
“Itoldyouwhat’sbeengoingon,”saidGatsby.“Goingonforfiveyears—andyoudidn’tknow.”
TomturnedtoDaisysharply.
“You’vebeenseeingthisfellowforfiveyears?”
“Notseeing,”saidGatsby.“No,wecouldn’tmeet.Butbothofuslovedeachotherallthattime,oldsport,andyoudidn’tknow.Iusedtolaughsometimes”—buttherewasnolaughterinhiseyes—“tothinkthatyoudidn’tknow.”
“Oh—that’sall.”Tomtappedhisthickfingerstogetherlikeaclergymanandleanedbackinhischair.
“You’recrazy!”heexploded.“Ican’tspeakaboutwhathappenedfiveyearsago,becauseIdidn’tknowDaisythen—andI’llbedamnedifIseehowyougotwithinamileofherunlessyoubroughtthegroceriestothebackdoor.Butalltherestofthat’saGoddamnedlie.Daisylovedmewhenshemarriedmeandshelovesmenow.”
“No,”saidGatsby,shakinghishead.
“Shedoes,though.Thetroubleisthatsometimesshegetsfoolishideasinherheadanddoesn’tknowwhatshe’sdoing.”Henoddedsagely.“Andwhat’smore,IloveDaisytoo.OnceinawhileIgooffonaspreeandmakeafoolofmyself,butIalwayscomeback,andinmyheartIloveherallthetime.”
“You’rerevolting,”saidDaisy.Sheturnedtome,andhervoice,droppinganoctavelower,filledtheroomwiththrillingscorn:“DoyouknowwhyweleftChicago?I’msurprisedthattheydidn’ttreatyoutothestoryofthatlittlespree.”
Gatsbywalkedoverandstoodbesideher.
“Daisy,that’sallovernow,”hesaidearnestly.“Itdoesn’tmatteranymore.Justtellhimthetruth—thatyouneverlovedhim—andit’sallwipedoutforever.”
Shelookedathimblindly.“Why—howcouldIlovehim—possibly?”
“Youneverlovedhim.”
Shehesitated.HereyesfellonJordanandmewithasortofappeal,asthoughsherealizedatlastwhatshewasdoing—andasthoughshehadnever,allalong,intendeddoinganythingatall.Butitwasdonenow.Itwastoolate.
“Ineverlovedhim,”shesaid,withperceptiblereluctance.
“NotatKapiolani?”demandedTomsuddenly.
“No.”
Fromtheballroombeneath,muffledandsuffocatingchordsweredriftinguponhotwavesofair.
“NotthatdayIcarriedyoudownfromthePunchBowltokeepyourshoesdry?”Therewasahuskytendernessinhistone…“Daisy?”
“Pleasedon’t.”Hervoicewascold,buttherancourwasgonefromit.ShelookedatGatsby.“There,Jay,”shesaid—butherhandasshetriedtolightacigarettewastrembling.Suddenlyshethrewthecigaretteandtheburningmatchonthecarpet.
“Oh,youwanttoomuch!”shecriedtoGatsby.“Iloveyounow—isn’tthatenough?Ican’thelpwhat’spast.”Shebegantosobhelplessly.“Ididlovehimonce—butIlovedyoutoo.”
Gatsby’seyesopenedandclosed.
“Youlovedmetoo?”herepeated.
“Eventhat’salie,”saidTomsavagely.“Shedidn’tknowyouwerealive.Why—there’sthingsbet
