The two young women preceded us toward the sunset where four candles flickered on the table.
Why candles? objected Daisy, frowning. She snapped them out with her fingers. In two weeks itll be the longest day in the year.
She looked at us all radiantly.
Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.
Lets plan something, yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the table.
All right, said Daisy. Whatll we plan? She turned to me helplessly. What do people plan?
Before I could answer Daisy showed her little finger.
Look! she complained. I hurt it.
We all looked-the finger was black and blue.
You did it, Tom, she said. I know you didnt mean to but you DID do it. Why did I marry such a man!
She and Miss Baker accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained.
I feel uncivilized with you, Daisy, I said.
Civilizations going to pieces, said Tom violently. If we dont look out the white race will be submerged. Its all scientific stuff; its been proved.
Tom is becoming a wise man, said Daisy with an expression of sadness. He reads clever books with long words in them. What was that word
Well, these books are all scientific, insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. We, the dominant race, must watch out or these other races will have control of things.
If you lived in California- began Miss Baker but Tom interrupted her.
This idea is that we-I, you, and you-weve produced all the things that go to make civilization-oh, science and art and all that. Do you see?
There was something pathetic in his words. Suddenly the telephone rang and Tom left.
Daisy leaned toward me.
I love to see you at my table, Nick. You remind me of a-of a rose, an absolute rose. Doesnt he? She turned to Miss Baker for confirmation: An absolute rose?
This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. Then she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.
Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance devoid of meaning.
This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbor, I said.
Dont talk. I want to hear what happens.
Is something happening? I inquired innocently.
Dont you know? said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. I thought everybody knew.
I dont.
Toms got some woman in New York, said Miss Baker.
Got some woman? I repeated.
Miss Baker nodded.
She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner-time. Dont you think?
Tom and Daisy were back at the table.
Daisy sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me and said: I looked outdoors for a minute and its very romantic outdoors. Theres a bird on the lawn, I think, a nightingale. Hes singing so sweetly! Its romantic, isnt it, Tom?
Very romantic, he said, and then to me: After dinner I want to show you my horses.
The telephone rang inside, and Daisy shook her head decisively. The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker went into the library, while I followed Daisy around the house. Then we sat down side by side on a bench.
Daisy took her face in her hands.
We dont know each other very well, Nick, said Daisy. Even if we are cousins. You didnt come to my wedding.
I wasnt back from the war.
Thats true. She hesitated. Well, Ive had a very bad time, and Im pretty cynical about everything.
I waited but she didnt say any more, and after a moment I decided to talk about her daughter.
I suppose she talks, and-eats, and everything.
Oh, yes. She looked at me absently. Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?
Very much.
Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. All right, I said, Im glad its a girl. And I hope shell be a fool-thats the best thing for a girl in this world, a beautiful little fool.
You see I think everythings terrible anyhow, she went on. Everybody thinks so-the most advanced people. And I KNOW. Ive been everywhere and seen everything and done everything.
Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat on the long couch and she read aloud to him from the newspaper.
When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand.
To be continued, she said, tossing the magazine on the table. She stood up.
Ten oclock, she remarked. Time for this good girl to go to bed.
Jordans going to play at Westchester tomorrow, explained Daisy.
Oh-youre Jordan Baker!
I knew now why her face was familiar-it had looked out at me from many pictures of the sporting life.
Good night, she said softly. Wake me at eight, wont you?
But you wont get up.
I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you.
Of course you will, confirmed Daisy. In fact I think Ill arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and Ill make it. You know-push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing
Good night, called Miss Baker from the stairs. I havent heard anything.
Shes a nice girl, said Tom after a moment. And her family
Her family! cried Daisy. Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Nick will look after her, wont you, Nick? Shes going to spend lots of week-ends out here this summer. I think the home influence will be very good for her.
Daisy and Tom looked at each other for a moment in silence.
Is she from New York? I asked quickly.
From Louisville. Shes a friend from my girlhood.
Did you talk much to Nick on the veranda? demanded Tom suddenly.
Did I? She looked at me. I cant remember, but I think we talked about something. Yes, Im sure we did.
Dont believe everything you hear, Nick, he advised me.
I said that I had heard nothing at all, and a few minutes later I got up to go home. They came to the door with me and stood side by side. As I started my motor Daisy called Wait! I forgot to ask you something, and its important. We heard you were going to marry?
Thats right, corroborated Tom kindly. We heard that you were engaged.
Its nonsense. Im too poor.
But we heard it, insisted Daisy. We heard it from three people so it must be true.
Of course I knew what they were talking about, but I wasnt engaged. Indeed, I had an old friend, but I had no intention to marry.
When I reached my house, I sat for a while in the yard. I turned my head and I saw that I was not alone-fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbors mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the stars. It was Mr. Gatsby himself.
I decided to call to him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that could be the beginning of our conversation. But I didnt call to him: when I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone in the darkness.
Chapter 2
One day I met Tom Buchanans mistress. Yes, Tom Buchanan had a mistress. He visited popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, wandered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew. Though I was curious to see her, I had no desire to meet her-but I did. I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped he jumped to his feet and forced me from the car.
Were getting off! he insisted. I want you to meet my girl.
He definitely decided to have my company. He thought that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to do. I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence. I saw a garage-Repairs. GEORGE B. WILSON. Cars Bought and Sold-and I followed Tom inside.
The interior was bare; the only automobile visible was the dust-covered Ford which stood in a dim corner. The proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste. He was a blonde, spiritless, faintly handsome man.
Hello, Wilson, old man, said Tom, slapping him on the shoulder. Hows business?