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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Великий Гэтсби
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- Стр. 162/165
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I
see
now
that
this
has
been
a
story
of
the
West
,
after
all
--
Tom
and
Gatsby
,
Daisy
and
Jordan
and
I
,
were
all
Westerners
,
and
perhaps
we
possessed
some
deficiency
in
common
which
made
us
subtly
unadaptable
to
Eastern
life
.
Even
when
the
East
excited
me
most
,
even
when
I
was
most
keenly
aware
of
its
superiority
to
the
bored
,
sprawling
,
swollen
towns
beyond
the
Ohio
,
with
their
interminable
inquisitions
which
spared
only
the
children
and
the
very
old
--
even
then
it
had
always
for
me
a
quality
of
distortion
.
West
Egg
,
especially
,
still
figures
in
my
more
fantastic
dreams
.
I
see
it
as
a
night
scene
by
El
Greco
:
a
hundred
houses
,
at
once
conventional
and
grotesque
,
crouching
under
a
sullen
,
overhanging
sky
and
a
lustreless
moon
.
In
the
foreground
four
solemn
men
in
dress
suits
are
walking
along
the
sidewalk
with
a
stretcher
on
which
lies
a
drunken
woman
in
a
white
evening
dress
.
Her
hand
,
which
dangles
over
the
side
,
sparkles
cold
with
jewels
.
Gravely
the
men
turn
in
at
a
house
--
the
wrong
house
.
But
no
one
knows
the
woman
's
name
,
and
no
one
cares
.
After
Gatsby
's
death
the
East
was
haunted
for
me
like
that
,
distorted
beyond
my
eyes
'
power
of
correction
.
So
when
the
blue
smoke
of
brittle
leaves
was
in
the
air
and
the
wind
blew
the
wet
laundry
stiff
on
the
line
I
decided
to
come
back
home
.
There
was
one
thing
to
be
done
before
I
left
,
an
awkward
,
unpleasant
thing
that
perhaps
had
better
have
been
let
alone
.
But
I
wanted
to
leave
things
in
order
and
not
just
trust
that
obliging
and
indifferent
sea
to
sweep
my
refuse
away
.
I
saw
Jordan
Baker
and
talked
over
and
around
what
had
happened
to
us
together
,
and
what
had
happened
afterward
to
me
,
and
she
lay
perfectly
still
,
listening
,
in
a
big
chair
.
She
was
dressed
to
play
golf
,
and
I
remember
thinking
she
looked
like
a
good
illustration
,
her
chin
raised
a
little
jauntily
,
her
hair
the
color
of
an
autumn
leaf
,
her
face
the
same
brown
tint
as
the
fingerless
glove
on
her
knee
.
When
I
had
finished
she
told
me
without
comment
that
she
was
engaged
to
another
man
.
I
doubted
that
,
though
there
were
several
she
could
have
married
at
a
nod
of
her
head
,
but
I
pretended
to
be
surprised
.
For
just
a
minute
I
wondered
if
I
was
n't
making
a
mistake
,
then
I
thought
it
all
over
again
quickly
and
got
up
to
say
good-bye
.
"
Nevertheless
you
did
throw
me
over
,
"
said
Jordan
suddenly
.
"
You
threw
me
over
on
the
telephone
.
I
do
n't
give
a
damn
about
you
now
,
but
it
was
a
new
experience
for
me
,
and
I
felt
a
little
dizzy
for
a
while
.
"
We
shook
hands
.
"
Oh
,
and
do
you
remember
.
"
--
she
added
--
--
"
a
conversation
we
had
once
about
driving
a
car
?
"
"
Why
--
not
exactly
.
"
"
You
said
a
bad
driver
was
only
safe
until
she
met
another
bad
driver
?
Well
,
I
met
another
bad
driver
,
did
n't
I
?
I
mean
it
was
careless
of
me
to
make
such
a
wrong
guess
.
I
thought
you
were
rather
an
honest
,
straightforward
person
.
I
thought
it
was
your
secret
pride
.
"
