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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Великий Гэтсби
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- Стр. 76/165
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We
went
up-stairs
,
through
period
bedrooms
swathed
in
rose
and
lavender
silk
and
vivid
with
new
flowers
,
through
dressing-rooms
and
poolrooms
,
and
bathrooms
with
sunken
baths
--
intruding
into
one
chamber
where
a
dishevelled
man
in
pajamas
was
doing
liver
exercises
on
the
floor
.
It
was
Mr.
Klipspringer
,
the
"
boarder
.
"
I
had
seen
him
wandering
hungrily
about
the
beach
that
morning
.
Finally
we
came
to
Gatsby
's
own
apartment
,
a
bedroom
and
a
bath
,
and
an
Adam
study
,
where
we
sat
down
and
drank
a
glass
of
some
Chartreuse
he
took
from
a
cupboard
in
the
wall
.
He
had
n't
once
ceased
looking
at
Daisy
,
and
I
think
he
revalued
everything
in
his
house
according
to
the
measure
of
response
it
drew
from
her
well-loved
eyes
.
Sometimes
,
too
,
he
stared
around
at
his
possessions
in
a
dazed
way
,
as
though
in
her
actual
and
astounding
presence
none
of
it
was
any
longer
real
.
Once
he
nearly
toppled
down
a
flight
of
stairs
.
His
bedroom
was
the
simplest
room
of
all
--
except
where
the
dresser
was
garnished
with
a
toilet
set
of
pure
dull
gold
.
Daisy
took
the
brush
with
delight
,
and
smoothed
her
hair
,
whereupon
Gatsby
sat
down
and
shaded
his
eyes
and
began
to
laugh
.
"
It
's
the
funniest
thing
,
old
sport
,
"
he
said
hilariously
.
"
I
ca
n't
--
When
I
try
to
--
--
"
He
had
passed
visibly
through
two
states
and
was
entering
upon
a
third
.
After
his
embarrassment
and
his
unreasoning
joy
he
was
consumed
with
wonder
at
her
presence
.
He
had
been
full
of
the
idea
so
long
,
dreamed
it
right
through
to
the
end
,
waited
with
his
teeth
set
,
so
to
speak
,
at
an
inconceivable
pitch
of
intensity
.
Now
,
in
the
reaction
,
he
was
running
down
like
an
overwound
clock
.
Recovering
himself
in
a
minute
he
opened
for
us
two
hulking
patent
cabinets
which
held
his
massed
suits
and
dressing-gowns
and
ties
,
and
his
shirts
,
piled
like
bricks
in
stacks
a
dozen
high
.
"
I
've
got
a
man
in
England
who
buys
me
clothes
.
He
sends
over
a
selection
of
things
at
the
beginning
of
each
season
,
spring
and
fall
.
"
He
took
out
a
pile
of
shirts
and
began
throwing
them
,
one
by
one
,
before
us
,
shirts
of
sheer
linen
and
thick
silk
and
fine
flannel
,
which
lost
their
folds
as
they
fell
and
covered
the
table
in
many-colored
disarray
.
While
we
admired
he
brought
more
and
the
soft
rich
heap
mounted
higher
--
shirts
with
stripes
and
scrolls
and
plaids
in
coral
and
apple-green
and
lavender
and
faint
orange
,
and
monograms
of
Indian
blue
.
Suddenly
,
with
a
strained
sound
,
Daisy
bent
her
head
into
the
shirts
and
began
to
cry
stormily
.
"
They
're
such
beautiful
shirts
,
"
she
sobbed
,
her
voice
muffled
in
the
thick
folds
.
"
It
makes
me
sad
because
I
've
never
seen
such
--
such
beautiful
shirts
before
.
"
After
the
house
,
we
were
to
see
the
grounds
and
the
swimming-pool
,
and
the
hydroplane
and
the
mid-summer
flowers
--
but
outside
Gatsby
's
window
it
began
to
rain
again
,
so
we
stood
in
a
row
looking
at
the
corrugated
surface
of
the
Sound
.
