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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Великий Гэтсби
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- Стр. 69/165
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"
Will
they
do
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Of
course
,
of
course
!
They
're
fine
!
"
and
he
added
hollowly
,
"
...
old
sport
.
"
The
rain
cooled
about
half-past
three
to
a
damp
mist
,
through
which
occasional
thin
drops
swam
like
dew
.
Gatsby
looked
with
vacant
eyes
through
a
copy
of
Clay
's
Economics
,
starting
at
the
Finnish
tread
that
shook
the
kitchen
floor
,
and
peering
toward
the
bleared
windows
from
time
to
time
as
if
a
series
of
invisible
but
alarming
happenings
were
taking
place
outside
.
Finally
he
got
up
and
informed
me
,
in
an
uncertain
voice
,
that
he
was
going
home
.
"
Why
's
that
?
"
"
Nobody
's
coming
to
tea
.
It
's
too
late
!
"
He
looked
at
his
watch
as
if
there
was
some
pressing
demand
on
his
time
elsewhere
.
"
I
ca
n't
wait
all
day
.
"
"
Do
n't
be
silly
;
it
's
just
two
minutes
to
four
.
"
He
sat
down
miserably
,
as
if
I
had
pushed
him
,
and
simultaneously
there
was
the
sound
of
a
motor
turning
into
my
lane
.
We
both
jumped
up
,
and
,
a
little
harrowed
myself
,
I
went
out
into
the
yard
.
Under
the
dripping
bare
lilac-trees
a
large
open
car
was
coming
up
the
drive
.
It
stopped
.
Daisy
's
face
,
tipped
sideways
beneath
a
three-cornered
lavender
hat
,
looked
out
at
me
with
a
bright
ecstatic
smile
.
"
Is
this
absolutely
where
you
live
,
my
dearest
one
?
"
The
exhilarating
ripple
of
her
voice
was
a
wild
tonic
in
the
rain
.
I
had
to
follow
the
sound
of
it
for
a
moment
,
up
and
down
,
with
my
ear
alone
,
before
any
words
came
through
.
A
damp
streak
of
hair
lay
like
a
dash
of
blue
paint
across
her
cheek
,
and
her
hand
was
wet
with
glistening
drops
as
I
took
it
to
help
her
from
the
car
.
