The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker, with several feet[23] of twilight between them, strolled back into the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while, trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf, I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front. In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee.
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk. I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl.
We dont know each other very well, Nick, she said suddenly. 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, Nick, and Im pretty cynical about everything.
Evidently she had reason to be. I waited but she didnt say any more, and after a moment I returned rather feebly to the subject of 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.
Itll show you how Ive gotten to feel about things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, 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 a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.
You see I think everythings terrible anyhow, she went on in a convinced way. Everybody thinks so the most advanced people. And I know. Ive been everywhere and seen everything and done everything. Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Toms, and she laughed with thrilling scorn. Sophisticated God, Im sophisticated!
The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited, and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk on her lovely face, as if she had asserted her membership in a rather distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged.
* * *Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the Saturday Evening Post[24] the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune. The lamp-light, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair, glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms.
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, in our very next issue.
Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee, and she stood up.
Ten oclock, she remarked, apparently finding the time on the ceiling. Time for this good girl to go to bed.
Jordans going to play in the tournament tomorrow, explained Daisy, over at Westchester.
Oh youre Jordan Baker.
I knew now why her face was familiar its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure[25] pictures of the sporting life at Asheville[26] and Hot Springs[27] and Palm Beach[28]. I had heard some story of her too, a critical, unpleasant story, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.
Good night, she said softly. Wake me at eight wont you.
If youll get up.
I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you anon.
Of course you will, confirmed Daisy. In fact I think Ill arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and Ill sort of oh fling you together. You know lock you up accidentally in linen closets and 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 a word.
Good night, called Miss Baker from the stairs. I havent heard a word.
Shes a nice girl, said Tom after a moment. They oughtnt to let her run around the country this way.
Who oughtnt to? inquired Daisy coldly.
Her family.
Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Nicks going to look after her, arent 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[29]. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Our beautiful white
Did you give Nick a little heart to heart talk on the veranda? demanded Tom suddenly.
Did I? She looked at me. I cant seem to remember, but I think we talked about the Nordic race[30]. Yes, Im sure we did. It sort of crept up on us and first thing you know
Dont believe everything you hear, Nick, he advised me.