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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Стр. 224/348
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All
life
was
transmitted
into
terms
of
their
love
,
all
experience
,
all
desires
,
all
ambitions
,
were
nullified
--
their
senses
of
humor
crawled
into
corners
to
sleep
;
their
former
love-affairs
seemed
faintly
laughable
and
scarcely
regretted
juvenalia
.
For
the
second
time
in
his
life
Amory
had
had
a
complete
bouleversement
and
was
hurrying
into
line
with
his
generation
.
A
LITTLE
INTERLUDE
Amory
wandered
slowly
up
the
avenue
and
thought
of
the
night
as
inevitably
his
--
the
pageantry
and
carnival
of
rich
dusk
and
dim
streets
...
it
seemed
that
he
had
closed
the
book
of
fading
harmonies
at
last
and
stepped
into
the
sensuous
vibrant
walks
of
life
.
Everywhere
these
countless
lights
,
this
promise
of
a
night
of
streets
and
singing
--
he
moved
in
a
half-dream
through
the
crowd
as
if
expecting
to
meet
Rosalind
hurrying
toward
him
with
eager
feet
from
every
corner
...
How
the
unforgettable
faces
of
dusk
would
blend
to
her
,
the
myriad
footsteps
,
a
thousand
overtures
,
would
blend
to
her
footsteps
;
and
there
would
be
more
drunkenness
than
wine
in
the
softness
of
her
eyes
on
his
.
Even
his
dreams
now
were
faint
violins
drifting
like
summer
sounds
upon
the
summer
air
.
The
room
was
in
darkness
except
for
the
faint
glow
of
Tom
's
cigarette
where
he
lounged
by
the
open
window
.
As
the
door
shut
behind
him
,
Amory
stood
a
moment
with
his
back
against
it
.
"
Hello
,
Benvenuto
Blaine
.
How
went
the
advertising
business
to-day
?
"
Amory
sprawled
on
a
couch
.
"
I
loathed
it
as
usual
!
"
The
momentary
vision
of
the
bustling
agency
was
displaced
quickly
by
another
picture
.
"
My
God
!
She
's
wonderful
!
"
Tom
sighed
.
