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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Стр. 89/348
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It
was
a
clear
night
and
the
exhilaration
of
the
road
went
to
Amory
's
head
.
He
had
the
ghost
of
two
stanzas
of
a
poem
forming
in
his
mind
.
...
So
the
gray
car
crept
nightward
in
the
dark
and
there
was
no
life
stirred
as
it
went
by
...
As
the
still
ocean
paths
before
the
shark
in
starred
and
glittering
waterways
,
beauty-high
,
the
moon-swathed
trees
divided
,
pair
on
pair
,
while
flapping
nightbirds
cried
across
the
air
...
A
moment
by
an
inn
of
lamps
and
shades
,
a
yellow
inn
under
a
yellow
moon
--
then
silence
,
where
crescendo
laughter
fades
...
the
car
swung
out
again
to
the
winds
of
June
,
mellowed
the
shadows
where
the
distance
grew
,
then
crushed
the
yellow
shadows
into
