[QUOTE=ep9832;32531763]not hard to do[/QUOTE]
It is.
In my youngr and mor vulnrabl yars my fathr gav m som advic that I’v bn turning ovr in my mind vr sinc.
“Whnvr you fl lik criticizing any on,” h told m, “just rmmbr that all th popl in this world havn’t had th advantags that you’v had.”
H didn’t say any mor, but w’v always bn unusually communicativ in a rsrvd way, and I undrstood that h mant a grat dal mor than that. In consqunc, I’m inclind to rsrv all judgmnts, a habit that has opnd up many curious naturs to m and also mad m th victim of not a fw vtran bors. Th abnormal mind is quick to dtct and attach itslf to this quality whn it appars in a normal prson, and so it cam about that in collg I was unjustly accusd of bing a politician, bcaus I was privy to th scrt grifs of wild, unknown mn. Most of th confidncs wr unsought—frquntly I hav fignd slp, proccupation, or a hostil lvity whn I ralizd by som unmistakabl sign that an intimat rvlation was quivring on th horizon; for th intimat rvlations of young mn, or at last th trms in which thy xprss thm, ar usually plagiaristic and marrd by obvious supprssions. Rsrving judgmnts is a mattr of infinit hop. I am still a littl afraid of missing somthing if I forgt that, as my fathr snobbishly suggstd, and I snobbishly rpat, a sns of th fundamntal dcncis is parclld out unqually at birth.
And, aftr boasting this way of my tolranc, I com to th admission that it has a limit. Conduct may b foundd on th hard rock or th wt marshs, but aftr a crtain point I don’t car what it’s foundd on. Whn I cam back from th ast last autumn I flt that I wantd th world to b in uniform and at a sort of moral attntion forvr; I wantd no mor riotous xcursions with privilgd glimpss into th human hart. Only Gatsby, th man who givs his nam to this book, was xmpt from my raction—Gatsby, who rprsntd vrything for which I hav an unaffctd scorn. If prsonality is an unbrokn sris of succssful gsturs, thn thr was somthing gorgous about him, som hightnd snsitivity to th promiss of lif, as if h wr rlatd to on of thos intricat machins that rgistr arthquaks tn thousand mils away. This rsponsivnss had nothing to do with that flabby imprssionability which is dignifid undr th nam of th “crativ tmpramnt.”—it was an xtraordinary gift for hop, a romantic radinss such as I hav nvr found in any othr prson and which it is not likly I shall vr find again. No—Gatsby turnd out all right at th nd; it is what pryd on Gatsby, what foul dust floatd in th wak of his drams that tmporarily closd out my intrst in th abortiv sorrows and short-windd lations of mn.
My family hav bn prominnt, wll-to-do popl in this Middl Wstrn city for thr gnrations. Th Carraways ar somthing of a clan, and w hav a tradition that w’r dscndd from th Duks of Buccluch, but th actual foundr of my lin was my grandfathr’s brothr, who cam hr in fifty-on, snt a substitut to th Civil War, and startd th wholsal hardwar businss that my fathr carris on to-day.
I nvr saw this grat-uncl, but I’m supposd to look lik him—with spcial rfrnc to th rathr hard-boild painting that hangs in fathr’s offic I graduatd from Nw Havn in 1915, just a quartr of a cntury aftr my fathr, and a littl latr I participatd in that dlayd Tutonic migration known as th Grat War. I njoyd th countr-raid so thoroughly that I cam back rstlss. Instad of bing th warm cntr of th world, th Middl Wst now smd lik th raggd dg of th univrs—so I dcidd to go ast and larn th bond businss. vrybody I knw was in th bond businss, so I supposd it could support on mor singl man. All my aunts and uncls talkd it ovr as if thy wr choosing a prp school for m, and finally said, “Why—y—s,” with vry grav, hsitant facs. Fathr agrd to financ m for a yar, and aftr various dlays I cam ast, prmanntly, I thought, in th spring of twnty-two.
Th practical thing was to find rooms in th city, but it was a warm sason, and I had just lft a country of wid lawns and frindly trs, so whn a young man at th offic suggstd that w tak a hous togthr in a commuting town, it soundd lik a grat ida. H found th hous, a wathr-batn cardboard bungalow at ighty a month, but at th last minut th firm ordrd him to Washington, and I wnt out to th country alon. I had a dog—at last I had him for a fw days until h ran away—and an old Dodg and a Finnish woman, who mad my bd and cookd brakfast and muttrd Finnish wisdom to hrslf ovr th lctric stov.
It was lonly for a day or so until on morning som man, mor rcntly arrivd than I, stoppd m on th road.
“How do you gt to Wst gg villag?” h askd hlplssly.
I told him. And as I walkd on I was lonly no longr. I was a guid, a pathfindr, an original sttlr. H had casually confrrd on m th frdom of th nighborhood.
And so with th sunshin and th grat bursts of lavs growing on th trs, just as things grow in fast movis, I had that familiar conviction that lif was bginning ovr again with th summr.
Thr was so much to rad, for on thing, and so much fin halth to b pulld down out of th young brath-giving air. I bought a dozn volums on banking and crdit and invstmnt scuritis, and thy stood on my shlf in rd and gold lik nw mony from th mint, promising to unfold th shining scrts that only Midas and Morgan and Macnas knw. And I had th high intntion of rading many othr books bsids. I was rathr litrary in collg—on yar I wrot a sris of vry solmn and obvious ditorials for th “Yal Nws.”—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my lif and bcom again that most limitd of all spcialists, th “wll-roundd man.” This isn’t just an pigram—lif is much mor succssfully lookd at from a singl window, aftr all.
It was a mattr of chanc that I should hav rntd a hous in on of th strangst communitis in North Amrica. It was on that slndr riotous island which xtnds itslf du ast of Nw York—and whr thr ar, among othr natural curiositis, two unusual formations of land. Twnty mils from th city a pair of normous ggs, idntical in contour and sparatd only by a courtsy bay, jut out into th most domsticatd body of salt watr in th Wstrn hmisphr, th grat wt barnyard of Long Island Sound. thy ar not prfct ovals—lik th gg in th Columbus story, thy ar both crushd flat at th contact nd—but thir physical rsmblanc must b a sourc of prptual confusion to th gulls that fly ovrhad. to th winglss a mor arrsting phnomnon is thir dissimilarity in vry particular xcpt shap and siz.
I livd at Wst gg, th—wll, th lss fashionabl of th two, though this is a most suprficial tag to xprss th bizarr and not a littl sinistr contrast btwn thm. my hous was at th vry tip of th gg, only fifty yards from th Sound, and squzd btwn two hug placs that rntd for twlv or fiftn thousand a sason. th on on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imitation of som Hotl d Vill in Normandy, with a towr on on sid, spanking nw undr a thin bard of raw ivy, and a marbl swimming pool, and mor than forty acrs of lawn and gardn. it was Gatsby’s mansion. Or, rathr, as I didn’t know Mr. Gatsby, it was a mansion inhabitd by a gntlman of that nam. My own hous was an ysor, but it was a small ysor, and it had bn ovrlookd, so I had a viw of th watr, a partial viw of my nighbor’s lawn, and th consoling proximity of millionairs—all for ighty dollars a month.
Across th courtsy bay th whit palacs of fashionabl ast gg glittrd along th watr, and th history of th summr rally bgins on th vning I drov ovr thr to hav dinnr with th Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my scond cousin onc rmovd, and I’d known Tom in collg. And just aftr th war I spnt two days with thm in Chicago.
Hr husband, among various physical accomplishmnts, had bn on of th most powrful nds that vr playd football at Nw Havn—a national figur in a way, on of thos mn who rach such an acut limitd xcllnc at twnty-on that vrything aftrward savors of anti-climax. His family wr normously walthy—vn in collg his frdom with mony was a mattr for rproach—but now h’d lft Chicago and com ast in a fashion that rathr took your brath away: for instanc, h’d brought down a string of polo ponis from Lak Forst. it was hard to raliz that a man in my own gnration was walthy nough to do that.
Why thy cam ast I don’t know. Thy had spnt a yar in Franc for no particular rason, and thn driftd hr and thr unrstfully whrvr popl playd polo and wr rich togthr. This was a prmannt mov, said Daisy ovr th tlphon, but I didn’t bliv it—I had no sight into Daisy’s hart, but I flt that Tom would drift on forvr sking, a littl wistfully, for th dramatic turbulnc of som irrcovrabl football gam.
And so it happnd that on a warm windy vning I drov ovr to ast gg to s two old frinds whom I scarcly knw at all. Thir hous was vn mor laborat than I xpctd, a chrful rd-and-whit Gorgian Colonial mansion, ovrlooking th bay. Th lawn startd at th bach and ran toward th front door for a quartr of a mil, jumping ovr sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardns—finally whn it rachd th hous drifting up th sid in bright vins as though from th momntum of its run. Th front was brokn by a lin of Frnch windows, glowing now with rflctd gold and wid opn to th warm windy aftrnoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding cloths was standing with his lgs apart on th front porch.
H had changd sinc his Nw Havn yars. Now h was a sturdy straw-haird man of thirty with a rathr hard mouth and a suprcilious mannr. Two shining arrogant ys had stablishd dominanc ovr his fac and gav him th apparanc of always laning aggrssivly forward. Not vn th ffminat swank of his riding cloths could hid th normous powr of that body—h smd to fill thos glistning boots until h straind th top lacing, and you could s a grat pack of muscl shifting whn his shouldr movd undr his thin coat. It was a body capabl of normous lvrag—a crul body.
His spaking voic, a gruff husky tnor, addd to th imprssion of fractiousnss h convyd. Thr was a touch of patrnal contmpt in it, vn toward popl h likd—and thr wr mn at Nw Havn who had hatd his guts.
“Now, don’t think my opinion on ths mattrs is final,” h smd to say, “just bcaus I’m strongr and mor of a man than you ar.” W wr in th sam snior socity, and whil w wr nvr intimat I always had th imprssion that h approvd of m and wantd m to lik him with som harsh, dfiant wistfulnss of his own.
W talkd for a fw minuts on th sunny porch.
“I’v got a nic plac hr,” h said, his ys flashing about rstlssly.
Turning m around by on arm, h movd a broad flat hand along th front vista, including in its swp a sunkn Italian gardn, a half acr of dp, pungnt ross, and a snub-nosd motor-boat that bumpd th tid offshor.
“It blongd to Dmain, th oil man.” H turnd m around again, politly and abruptly. “W’ll go insid.”
W walkd through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colord spac, fragilly bound into th hous by Frnch windows at ithr nd. Th windows wr ajar and glaming whit against th frsh grass outsid that smd to grow a littl way into th hous. A brz blw through th room, blw curtains in at on nd and out th othr lik pal flags, twisting thm up toward th frostd wdding-cak of th ciling, and thn rippld ovr th win-colord rug, making a shadow on it as wind dos on th sa.
Th only compltly stationary objct in th room was an normous couch on which two young womn wr buoyd up as though upon an anchord balloon. Thy wr both in whit, and thir drsss wr rippling and fluttring as if thy had just bn blown back in aftr a short flight around th hous. I must hav stood for a fw momnts listning to th whip and snap of th curtains and th groan of a pictur on th wall. Thn thr was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut th rar windows and th caught wind did out about th room, and th curtains and th rugs and th two young womn balloond slowly to th floor.
Th youngr of th two was a strangr to m. Sh was xtndd full lngth at hr nd of th divan, compltly motionlss, and with hr chin raisd a littl, as if sh wr balancing somthing on it which was quit likly to fall. If sh saw m out of th cornr of hr ys sh gav no hint of it—indd, I was almost surprisd into murmuring an apology for having disturbd hr by coming in.
Th othr girl, Daisy, mad an attmpt to ris—sh land slightly forward with a conscintious xprssion—thn sh laughd, an absurd, charming littl laugh, and I laughd too and cam forward into th room.
“I’m p-paralyzd with happinss.” Sh laughd again, as if sh said somthing vry witty, and hld my hand for a momnt, looking up into my fac, promising that thr was no on in th world sh so much wantd to s. That was a way sh had. Sh hintd in a murmur that th surnam of th balancing girl was Bakr. (I’v hard it said that Daisy’s murmur was only to mak popl lan toward hr; an irrlvant criticism that mad it no lss charming.)
At any rat, Miss Bakr’s lips fluttrd, sh noddd at m almost imprcptibly, and thn quickly tippd hr had back again—th objct sh was balancing had obviously tottrd a littl and givn hr somthing of a fright. Again a sort of apology aros to my lips. Almost any xhibition of complt slf-sufficincy draws a stunnd tribut from m.
I lookd back at my cousin, who bgan to ask m qustions in hr low, thrilling voic. It was th kind of voic that th ar follows up and down, as if ach spch is an arrangmnt of nots that will nvr b playd again. Hr fac was sad and lovly with bright things in it, bright ys and a bright passionat mouth, but thr was an xcitmnt in hr voic that mn who had card for hr found difficult to forgt: a singing compulsion, a whisprd “Listn,” a promis that sh had don gay, xciting things just a whil sinc and that thr wr gay, xciting things hovring in th nxt hour.
I told hr how I had stoppd off in Chicago for a day on my way ast, and how a dozn popl had snt thir lov through m.
“Do thy miss m?” sh crid cstatically.
“Th whol town is dsolat. All th cars hav th lft rar whl paintd black as a mourning wrath, and thr’s a prsistnt wail all night along th north shor.”
“How gorgous! Lt’s go back, Tom. To-morrow!” Thn sh addd irrlvantly: “You ought to s th baby.”
“I’d lik to.”
“Sh’s aslp. Sh’s thr yars old. Havn’t you vr sn hr?”
“Nvr.”
“Wll, you ought to s hr. Sh’s——”
Tom Buchanan, who had bn hovring rstlssly about th room, stoppd and rstd his hand on my shouldr.
“What you doing, Nick?”
“I’m a bond man.”
“Who with?”
I told him.
“Nvr hard of thm,” h rmarkd dcisivly.
This annoyd m.
“You will,” I answrd shortly. “You will if you stay in th ast.”
“Oh, I’ll stay in th ast, don’t you worry,” h said, glancing at Daisy and thn back at m, as if h wr alrt for somthing mor. “I’d b a God damnd fool to liv anywhr ls.”
At this point Miss Bakr said: “Absolutly!” with such suddnnss that I startd—it was th first word sh uttrd sinc I cam into th room. vidntly it surprisd hr as much as it did m, for sh yawnd and with a sris of rapid, dft movmnts stood up into th room.
“I’m stiff,” sh complaind, “I’v bn lying on that sofa for as long as I can rmmbr.”
“Don’t look at m,” Daisy rtortd, “I’v bn trying to gt you to Nw York all aftrnoon.”
“No, thanks,” said Miss Bakr to th four cocktails just in from th pantry, “I’m absolutly in training.”
Hr host lookd at hr incrdulously.
“You ar!” H took down his drink as if it wr a drop in th bottom of a glass. “How you vr gt anything don is byond m.”
I lookd at Miss Bakr, wondring what it was sh “got don.” I njoyd looking at hr. Sh was a slndr, small-brastd girl, with an rct carriag, which sh accntuatd by throwing hr body backward at th shouldrs lik a young cadt. Hr gray sun-straind ys lookd back at m with polit rciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontntd fac. It occurrd to m now that I had sn hr, or a pictur of hr, somwhr bfor.
“You liv in Wst gg,” sh rmarkd contmptuously. “I know sombody thr.”
“I don’t know a singl——”
“You must know Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?” dmandd Daisy. “What Gatsby?”
Bfor I could rply that h was my nighbor dinnr was announcd; wdging his tns arm imprativly undr min, Tom Buchanan complld m from th room as though h wr moving a chckr to anothr squar.
Slndrly, languidly, thir hands st lightly on thir hips, th two young womn prcdd us out onto a rosy-colord porch, opn toward th sunst, whr four candls flickrd on th tabl in th diminishd wind.
“Why CANDLS?” objctd Daisy, frowning. Sh snappd thm out with hr fingrs. “In two wks it’ll b th longst day in th yar.” Sh lookd at us all radiantly. “Do you always watch for th longst day of th yar and thn miss it? I always watch for th longst day in th yar and thn miss it.”
“W ought to plan somthing,” yawnd Miss Bakr, sitting down at th tabl as if sh wr gtting into bd.
“All right,” said Daisy. “What’ll w plan?” Sh turnd to m hlplssly: “What do popl plan?”
Bfor I could answr hr ys fastnd with an awd xprssion on hr littl fingr.
“Look!” sh complaind; “I hurt it.”
W all lookd—th knuckl was black and blu.
“You did it, Tom,” sh said accusingly. “I know you didn’t man to, but you DID do it. That’s what I gt for marrying a brut of a man, a grat, big, hulking physical spcimn of a——”
“I hat that word hulking,” objctd Tom crossly, “vn in kidding.”
“Hulking,” insistd Daisy.
Somtims sh and Miss Bakr talkd at onc, unobtrusivly and with a bantring inconsqunc that was nvr quit chattr, that was as cool as thir whit drsss and thir imprsonal ys in th absnc of all dsir. Thy wr hr, and thy accptd Tom and m, making only a polit plasant ffort to ntrtain or to b ntrtaind. Thy knw that prsntly dinnr would b ovr and a littl latr th vning too would b ovr and casually put away. It was sharply diffrnt from th Wst, whr an vning was hurrid from phas to phas toward its clos, in a continually disappointd anticipation or ls in shr nrvous drad of th momnt itslf.
“You mak m fl uncivilizd, Daisy,” I confssd on my scond glass of corky but rathr imprssiv clart. “Can’t you talk about crops or somthing?”
I mant nothing in particular by this rmark, but it was takn up in an unxpctd way.
“Civilization’s going to pics,” brok out Tom violntly. “I’v gottn to b a trribl pssimist about things. Hav you rad ‘Th Ris of th Colord mpirs’ by this man Goddard?”
“Why, no,” I answrd, rathr surprisd by his ton.
“Wll, it’s a fin book, and vrybody ought to rad it. Th ida is if w don’t look out th whit rac will b—will b uttrly submrgd. It’s all scintific stuff; it’s bn provd.”
“Tom’s gtting vry profound,” said Daisy, with an xprssion of unthoughtful sadnss. “H rads dp books with long words in thm. What was that word w——”
“Wll, ths books ar all scintific,” insistd Tom, glancing at hr impatintly. “This fllow has workd out th whol thing. It’s up to us, who ar th dominant rac, to watch out or ths othr racs will hav control of things.”
“W’v got to bat thm down,” whisprd Daisy, winking frociously toward th frvnt sun.
“You ought to liv in California—” bgan Miss Bakr, but Tom intrruptd hr by shifting havily in his chair.
“This ida is that w’r Nordics. I am, and you ar, and you ar, and——” Aftr an infinitsimal hsitation h includd Daisy with a slight nod, and sh winkd at m again. “—And w’v producd all th things that go to mak civilization—oh, scinc and art, and all that. Do you s?”
Thr was somthing pathtic in his concntration, as if his complacncy, mor acut than of old, was not nough to him any mor. Whn, almost immdiatly, th tlphon rang insid and th butlr lft th porch Daisy sizd upon th momntary intrruption and land toward m.
“I’ll tll you a family scrt,” sh whisprd nthusiastically. “It’s about th butlr’s nos. Do you want to har about th butlr’s nos?”
“That’s why I cam ovr to-night.”
“Wll, h wasn’t always a butlr; h usd to b th silvr polishr for som popl in Nw York that had a silvr srvic for two hundrd popl. H had to polish it from morning till night, until finally it bgan to affct his nos——”
“Things wnt from bad to wors,” suggstd Miss Bakr.
“Ys. Things wnt from bad to wors, until finally h had to giv up his position.”
For a momnt th last sunshin fll with romantic affction upon hr glowing fac; hr voic complld m forward brathlssly as I listnd—thn th glow fadd, ach light dsrting hr with lingring rgrt, lik childrn laving a plasant strt at dusk.
Th butlr cam back and murmurd somthing clos to Tom’s ar, whrupon Tom frownd, pushd back his chair, and without a word wnt insid. As if his absnc quicknd somthing within hr, Daisy land forward again, hr voic glowing and singing.
“I lov to s you at my tabl, Nick. You rmind m of a—of a ros, an absolut ros. Dosn’t h?” Sh turnd to Miss Bakr for confirmation: “An absolut ros?”
This was untru. I am not vn faintly lik a ros. Sh was only xtmporizing, but a stirring warmth flowd from hr, as if hr hart was trying to com out to you concald in on of thos brathlss, thrilling words. Thn suddnly sh thrw hr napkin on th tabl and xcusd hrslf and wnt into th hous.
Miss Bakr and I xchangd a short glanc consciously dvoid of maning. I was about to spak whn sh sat up alrtly and said “Sh!” in a warning voic. A subdud impassiond murmur was audibl in th room byond, and Miss Bakr land forward unashamd, trying to har. Th murmur trmbld on th vrg of cohrnc, sank down, mountd xcitdly, and thn casd altogthr.
“This Mr. Gatsby you spok of is my nighbor——” I said.
“Don’t talk. I want to har what happns.”
“Is somthing happning?” I inquird innocntly.
“You man to say you don’t know?” said Miss Bakr, honstly surprisd. “I thought vrybody knw.”
“I don’t.”
“Why——” sh said hsitantly, “Tom’s got som woman in Nw York.”
“Got som woman?” I rpatd blankly.
Miss Bakr noddd.
“Sh might hav th dcncy not to tlphon him at dinnr tim. Don’t you think?”
Almost bfor I had graspd hr maning thr was th fluttr of a drss and th crunch of lathr boots, and Tom and Daisy wr back at th tabl.
“It couldn’t b hlpd!” crid Daisy with tns gaity.
Sh sat down, glancd sarchingly at Miss Bakr and thn at m, and continud: “I lookd outdoors for a minut, and it’s vry romantic outdoors. Thr’s a bird on th lawn that I think must b a nightingal com ovr on th Cunard or Whit Star Lin. H’s singing away——” Hr voic sang: “It’s romantic, isn’t it, Tom?”
“Vry romantic,” h said, and thn misrably to m: “If it’s light nough aftr dinnr, I want to tak you down to th stabls.”
Th tlphon rang insid, startlingly, and as Daisy shook hr had dcisivly at Tom th subjct of th stabls, in fact all subjcts, vanishd into air. Among th brokn fragmnts of th last fiv minuts at tabl I rmmbr th candls bing lit again, pointlssly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarly at vry on, and yt to avoid all ys. I couldn’t guss what Daisy and Tom wr thinking, but I doubt if vn Miss Bakr, who smd to hav mastrd a crtain hardy scpticism, was abl uttrly to put this fifth gust’s shrill mtallic urgncy out of mind. To a crtain tmpramnt th situation might hav smd intriguing—my own instinct was to tlphon immdiatly for th polic.
Th horss, ndlss to say, wr not mntiond again. Tom and Miss Bakr, with svral ft of twilight btwn thm, strolld back into th library, as if to a vigil bsid a prfctly tangibl body, whil, trying to look plasantly intrstd and a littl daf, I followd Daisy around a chain of conncting vrandas to th porch in front. In its dp gloom w sat down sid by sid on a wickr stt.
Daisy took hr fac in hr hands as if fling its lovly shap, and hr ys movd gradually out into th vlvt dusk. I saw that turbulnt motions possssd hr, so I askd what I thought would b som sdativ qustions about hr littl girl.
“W don’t know ach othr vry wll, Nick,” sh said suddnly. “vn if w ar cousins. You didn’t com to my wdding.”
“I wasn’t back from th war.”
“That’s tru.” Sh hsitatd. “Wll, I’v had a vry bad tim, Nick, and I’m prtty cynical about vrything.”
vidntly sh had rason to b. I waitd but sh didn’t say any mor, and aftr a momnt I rturnd rathr fbly to th subjct of hr daughtr.
“I suppos sh talks, and—ats, and vrything.”
“Oh, ys.” Sh lookd at m absntly. “Listn, Nick; lt m tll you what I said whn sh was born. Would you lik to har?”
“Vry much.”
“It’ll show you how I’v gottn to fl about—things. Wll, sh was lss than an hour old and Tom was God knows whr. I wok up out of th thr with an uttrly abandond fling, and askd th nurs right away if it was a boy or a girl. Sh told m it was a girl, and so I turnd my had away and wpt. ‘all right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hop sh’ll b a fool—that’s th bst thing a girl can b in this world, a bautiful littl fool.”
“You s I think vrything’s trribl anyhow,” sh wnt on in a convincd way. “vrybody thinks so—th most advancd popl. And I KNOW. I’v bn vrywhr and sn vrything and don vrything.” Hr ys flashd around hr in a dfiant way, rathr lik Tom’s, and sh laughd with thrilling scorn. “Sophisticatd—God, I’m sophisticatd!”
Th instant hr voic brok off, casing to compl my attntion, my blif, I flt th basic insincrity of what sh had said. It mad m unasy, as though th whol vning had bn a trick of som sort to xact a contributory motion from m. I waitd, and sur nough, in a momnt sh lookd at m with an absolut smirk on hr lovly fac, as if sh had assrtd hr mmbrship in a rathr distinguishd scrt socity to which sh and Tom blongd.
Insid, th crimson room bloomd with light.
Tom and Miss Bakr sat at ithr nd of th long couch and sh rad aloud to him from th SATURDAY VNING POST.—th words, murmurous and uninflctd, running togthr in a soothing tun. Th lamp-light, bright on his boots and dull on th autumn-laf yllow of hr hair, glintd along th papr as sh turnd a pag with a fluttr of slndr muscls in hr arms.
Whn w cam in sh hld us silnt for a momnt with a liftd hand.
“To b continud,” sh said, tossing th magazin on th tabl, “in our vry nxt issu.”
Hr body assrtd itslf with a rstlss movmnt of hr kn, and sh stood up.
“Tn o’clock,” sh rmarkd, apparntly finding th tim on th ciling. “Tim for this good girl to go to bd.”
“Jordan’s going to play in th tournamnt to-morrow,” xplaind Daisy, “ovr at Wstchstr.”
“Oh—you’r Jordan BAKR.”
I knw now why hr fac was familiar—its plasing contmptuous xprssion had lookd out at m from many rotogravur picturs of th sporting lif at Ashvill and Hot Springs and Palm Bach. I had hard som story of hr too, a critical, unplasant story, but what it was I had forgottn long ago.
“Good night,” sh said softly. “Wak m at ight, won’t you.”
“If you’ll gt up.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. S you anon.”
“Of cours you will,” confirmd Daisy. “In fact I think I’ll arrang a marriag. Com ovr oftn, Nick, and I’ll sort of—oh—fling you togthr. You know—lock you up accidntally in linn closts and push you out to sa in a boat, and all that sort of thing——”
“Good night,” calld Miss Bakr from th stairs. “I havn’t hard a word.”
“Sh’s a nic girl,” said Tom aftr a momnt. “Thy oughtn’t to lt hr run around th country this way.”
“Who oughtn’t to?” inquird Daisy coldly.
“Hr family.”
“Hr family is on aunt about a thousand yars old. Bsids, Nick’s going to look aftr hr, arn’t you, Nick? Sh’s going to spnd lots of wk-nds out hr this summr. I think th hom influnc will b vry good for hr.”
Daisy and Tom lookd at ach othr for a momnt in silnc.
“Is sh from Nw York?” I askd quickly.
“From Louisvill. Our whit girlhood was passd togthr thr. Our bautiful whit——”
“Did you giv Nick a littl hart to hart talk on th vranda?” dmandd Tom suddnly.
“Did I?” Sh lookd at m.
“I can’t sm to rmmbr, but I think w talkd about th Nordic rac. Ys, I’m sur w did. It sort of crpt up on us and first thing you know——”
“Don’t bliv vrything you har, Nick,” h advisd m.
I said lightly that I had hard nothing at all, and a fw minuts latr I got up to go hom. Thy cam to th door with m and stood sid by sid in a chrful squar of light. As I startd my motor Daisy prmptorily calld: “Wait!”
“I forgot to ask you somthing, and it’s important. W hard you wr ngagd to a girl out Wst.”
“That’s right,” corroboratd Tom kindly. “W hard that you wr ngagd.”
“It’s libl. I’m too poor.”
“But w hard it,” insistd Daisy, surprising m by opning up again in a flowr-lik way. “W hard it from thr popl, so it must b tru.”
Of cours I knw what thy wr rfrring to, but I wasn’t vn vaguly ngagd. Th fact that gossip had publishd th banns was on of th rasons I had com ast. You can’t stop going with an old frind on account of rumors, and on th othr hand I had no intntion of bing rumord into marriag.
Thir intrst rathr touchd m and mad thm lss rmotly rich—nvrthlss, I was confusd and a littl disgustd as I drov away. It smd to m that th thing for Daisy to do was to rush out of th hous, child in arms—but apparntly thr wr no such intntions in hr had. As for Tom, th fact that h “had som woman in Nw York.” was rally lss surprising than that h had bn dprssd by a book. Somthing was making him nibbl at th dg of stal idas as if his sturdy physical gotism no longr nourishd his prmptory hart.
Alrady it was dp summr on roadhous roofs and in front of waysid garags, whr nw rd gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and whn I rachd my stat at Wst gg I ran th car undr its shd and sat for a whil on an abandond grass rollr in th yard. Th wind had blown off, laving a loud, bright night, with wings bating in th trs and a prsistnt organ sound as th full bllows of th arth blw th frogs full of lif. Th silhoutt of a moving cat wavrd across th moonlight, and turning my had to watch it, I saw that I was not alon—fifty ft away a figur had mrgd from th shadow of my nighbor’s mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockts rgarding th silvr pppr of th stars. Somthing in his lisurly movmnts and th scur position of his ft upon th lawn suggstd that it was Mr. Gatsby himslf, com out to dtrmin what shar was his of our local havns.
I dcidd to call to him. Miss Bakr had mntiond him at dinnr, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for h gav a suddn intimation that h was contnt to b alon—h strtchd out his arms toward th dark watr in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could hav sworn h was trmbling. Involuntarily I glancd saward—and distinguishd nothing xcpt a singl grn light, minut and far away, that might hav bn th nd of a dock. Whn I lookd onc mor for Gatsby h had vanishd, and I was alon again in th unquit darknss.
"Wll, Princ, so Gnoa and Lucca ar now just family stats of th Buonaparts. But I warn you, if you don't tll m that this mans war, if you still try to dfnd th infamis and horrors prptratd by that Antichrist--I rally bliv h is Antichrist--I will hav nothing mor to do with you and you ar no longr my frind, no longr my 'faithful slav,' as you call yourslf! But how do you do? I s I hav frightnd you--sit down and tll m all th nws."
It was in July, 1805, and th spakr was th wll-known Anna Pavlovna Schrr, maid of honor and favorit of th mprss Marya Fdorovna. With ths words sh grtd Princ Vasili Kuragin, a man of high rank and importanc, who was th first to arriv at hr rcption. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for som days. Sh was, as sh said, suffring from la gripp; gripp bing thn a nw word in St. Ptrsburg, usd only by th lit.
All hr invitations without xcption, writtn in Frnch, and dlivrd by a scarlt-livrid footman that morning, ran as follows:
"If you hav nothing bttr to do, Count [or Princ], and if th prospct of spnding an vning with a poor invalid is not too trribl, I shall b vry charmd to s you tonight btwn 7 and 10- Anntt Schrr."
"Havns! what a virulnt attack!" rplid th princ, not in th last disconcrtd by this rcption. H had just ntrd, waring an mbroidrd court uniform, kn brchs, and shos, and had stars on his brast and a srn xprssion on his flat fac. H spok in that rfind Frnch in which our grandfathrs not only spok but thought, and with th gntl, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importanc who had grown old in socity and at court. H wnt up to Anna Pavlovna, kissd hr hand, prsnting to hr his bald, scntd, and shining had, and complacntly satd himslf on th sofa.
"First of all, dar frind, tll m how you ar. St your frind's mind at rst," said h without altring his ton, bnath th politnss and affctd sympathy of which indiffrnc and vn irony could b discrnd.
"Can on b wll whil suffring morally? Can on b calm in tims lik ths if on has any fling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You ar staying th whol vning, I hop?"
"And th ft at th nglish ambassador's? Today is Wdnsday. I must put in an apparanc thr," said th princ. "My daughtr is coming for m to tak m thr."
"I thought today's ft had bn cancld. I confss all ths fstivitis and firworks ar bcoming warisom."
"If thy had known that you wishd it, th ntrtainmnt would hav bn put off," said th princ, who, lik a wound-up clock, by forc of habit said things h did not vn wish to b blivd.
"Don't tas! Wll, and what has bn dcidd about Novosiltsv's dispatch? You know vrything."
"What can on say about it?" rplid th princ in a cold, listlss ton. "What has bn dcidd? Thy hav dcidd that Buonapart has burnt his boats, and I bliv that w ar rady to burn ours."
Princ Vasili always spok languidly, lik an actor rpating a stal part. Anna Pavlovna Schrr on th contrary, dspit hr forty yars, ovrflowd with animation and impulsivnss. To b an nthusiast had bcom hr social vocation and, somtims vn whn sh did not fl lik it, sh bcam nthusiastic in ordr not to disappoint th xpctations of thos who knw hr. Th subdud smil which, though it did not suit hr fadd faturs, always playd round hr lips xprssd, as in a spoild child, a continual consciousnss of hr charming dfct, which sh nithr wishd, nor could, nor considrd it ncssary, to corrct.
In th midst of a convrsation on political mattrs Anna Pavlovna burst out:
"Oh, don't spak to m of Austria. Prhaps I don't undrstand things, but Austria nvr has wishd, and dos not wish, for war. Sh is btraying us! Russia alon must sav urop. Our gracious sovrign rcognizs his high vocation and will b tru to it. That is th on thing I hav faith in! Our good and wondrful sovrign has to prform th noblst rol on arth, and h is so virtuous and nobl that God will not forsak him. H will fulfill his vocation and crush th hydra of rvolution, which has bcom mor trribl than vr in th prson of this murdrr and villain! W alon must avng th blood of th just on.... Whom, I ask you, can w rly on?... ngland with hr commrcial spirit will not and cannot undrstand th mpror Alxandr's loftinss of soul. Sh has rfusd to vacuat Malta. Sh wantd to find, and still sks, som scrt motiv in our actions. What answr did Novosiltsv gt? Non. Th nglish hav not undrstood and cannot undrstand th slf-abngation of our mpror who wants nothing for himslf, but only dsirs th good of mankind. And what hav thy promisd? Nothing! And what littl thy hav promisd thy will not prform! Prussia has always dclard that Buonapart is invincibl, and that all urop is powrlss bfor him.... And I don't bliv a word that Hardnburg says, or Haugwitz ithr. This famous Prussian nutrality is just a trap. I hav faith only in God and th lofty dstiny of our adord monarch. H will sav urop!"
Sh suddnly pausd, smiling at hr own imptuosity.
"I think," said th princ with a smil, "that if you had bn snt instad of our dar Wintzingrod you would hav capturd th King of Prussia's consnt by assault. You ar so loqunt. Will you giv m a cup of ta?"
"In a momnt. A propos," sh addd, bcoming calm again, "I am xpcting two vry intrsting mn tonight, l Vicomt d Mortmart, who is connctd with th Montmorncys through th Rohans, on of th bst Frnch familis. H is on of th gnuin migrs, th good ons. And also th Abb Morio. Do you know that profound thinkr? H has bn rcivd by th mpror. Had you hard?"
"I shall b dlightd to mt thm," said th princ. "But tll m," h addd with studid carlssnss as if it had only just occurrd to him, though th qustion h was about to ask was th chif motiv of his visit, "is it tru that th Dowagr mprss wants Baron Funk to b appointd first scrtary at Vinna? Th baron by all accounts is a poor cratur."
Princ Vasili wishd to obtain this post for his son, but othrs wr trying through th Dowagr mprss Marya Fdorovna to scur it for th baron.
Anna Pavlovna almost closd hr ys to indicat that nithr sh nor anyon ls had a right to criticiz what th mprss dsird or was plasd with.
"Baron Funk has bn rcommndd to th Dowagr mprss by hr sistr," was all sh said, in a dry and mournful ton.
As sh namd th mprss, Anna Pavlovna's fac suddnly assumd an xprssion of profound and sincr dvotion and rspct mingld with sadnss, and this occurrd vry tim sh mntiond hr illustrious patronss. Sh addd that Hr Majsty had dignd to show Baron Funk baucoup d'stim, and again hr fac cloudd ovr with sadnss.
Th princ was silnt and lookd indiffrnt. But, with th womanly and courtirlik quicknss and tact habitual to hr, Anna Pavlovna wishd both to rbuk him (for daring to spak h had don of a man rcommndd to th mprss) and at th sam tim to consol him, so sh said:
"Now about your family. Do you know that sinc your daughtr cam out vryon has bn nrapturd by hr? Thy say sh is amazingly bautiful."
Th princ bowd to signify his rspct and gratitud.
"I oftn think," sh continud aftr a short paus, drawing narr to th princ and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics wr ndd and th tim had com for intimat convrsation--"I oftn think how unfairly somtims th joys of lif ar distributd. Why has fat givn you two such splndid childrn? I don't spak of Anatol, your youngst. I don't lik him," sh addd in a ton admitting of no rjoindr and raising hr ybrows. "Two such charming childrn. And rally you apprciat thm lss than anyon, and so you don't dsrv to hav thm."
And sh smild hr cstatic smil.
"I can't hlp it," said th princ. "Lavatr would hav said I lack th bump of patrnity."
"Don't jok; I man to hav a srious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfid with your youngr son? Btwn ourslvs" (and hr fac assumd its mlancholy xprssion), "h was mntiond at Hr Majsty's and you wr pitid...."
Th princ answrd nothing, but sh lookd at him significantly, awaiting a rply. H frownd.
"What would you hav m do?" h said at last. "You know I did all a fathr could for thir ducation, and thy hav both turnd out fools. Hippolyt is at last a quit fool, but Anatol is an activ on. That is th only diffrnc btwn thm." H said this smiling in a way mor natural and animatd than usual, so that th wrinkls round his mouth vry clarly rvald somthing unxpctdly coars and unplasant.
"And why ar childrn born to such mn as you? If you wr not a fathr thr would b nothing I could rproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pnsivly.
"I am your faithful slav and to you alon I can confss that my childrn ar th ban of my lif. It is th cross I hav to bar. That is how I xplain it to myslf. It can't b hlpd!"
H said no mor, but xprssd his rsignation to crul fat by a gstur. Anna Pavlovna mditatd.
"Hav you nvr thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatol?" sh askd. "Thy say old maids hav a mania for matchmaking, and though I don't fl that waknss in myslf as yt, I know a littl prson who is vry unhappy with hr fathr. Sh is a rlation of yours, Princss Mary Bolkonskaya."
Princ Vasili did not rply, though, with th quicknss of mmory and prcption bfitting a man of th world, h indicatd by a movmnt of th had that h was considring this information.
"Do you know," h said at last, vidntly unabl to chck th sad currnt of his thoughts, "that Anatol is costing m forty thousand rubls a yar? And," h wnt on aftr a paus, "what will it b in fiv yars, if h gos on lik this?" Prsntly h addd: "That's what w fathrs hav to put up with.... Is this princss of yours rich?"
"Hr fathr is vry rich and stingy. H livs in th country. H is th wll-known Princ Bolkonski who had to rtir from th army undr th lat mpror, and was nicknamd 'th King of Prussia.' H is vry clvr but ccntric, and a bor. Th poor girl is vry unhappy. Sh has a brothr; I think you know him, h marrid Lis Minn latly. H is an aid-d-camp of Kutuzov's and will b hr tonight."
"Listn, dar Anntt," said th princ, suddnly taking Anna Pavlovna's hand and for som rason drawing it downwards. "Arrang that affair for m and I shall always b your most dvotd slav- slaf with an f, as a villag ldr of min writs in his rports. Sh is rich and of good family and that's all I want."
And with th familiarity and asy grac pculiar to him, h raisd th maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissd it, and swung it to and fro as h lay back in his armchair, looking in anothr dirction.
"Attndz," said Anna Pavlovna, rflcting, "I'll spak to Lis, young Bolkonski's wif, this vry vning, and prhaps th thing can b arrangd. It shall b on your family's bhalf that I'll start my apprnticship as old maid."
Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling. Th highst Ptrsburg socity was assmbld thr: popl diffring widly in ag and charactr but alik in th social circl to which thy blongd. Princ Vasili's daughtr, th bautiful Hln, cam to tak hr fathr to th ambassador's ntrtainmnt; sh wor a ball drss and hr badg as maid of honor. Th youthful littl Princss Bolkonskaya, known as la fmm la plus sduisant d Ptrsbourg, was also thr. Sh had bn marrid during th prvious wintr, and bing prgnant did not go to any larg gathrings, but only to small rcptions. Princ Vasili's son, Hippolyt, had com with Mortmart, whom h introducd. Th Abb Morio and many othrs had also com.
To ach nw arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You hav not yt sn my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and vry gravly conductd him or hr to a littl old lady, waring larg bows of ribbon in hr cap, who had com sailing in from anothr room as soon as th gusts bgan to arriv; and slowly turning hr ys from th visitor to hr aunt, Anna Pavlovna mntiond ach on's nam and thn lft thm.
ach visitor prformd th crmony of grting this old aunt whom not on of thm knw, not on of thm wantd to know, and not on of thm card about; Anna Pavlovna obsrvd ths grtings with mournful and solmn intrst and silnt approval. Th aunt spok to ach of thm in th sam words, about thir halth and hr own, and th halth of Hr Majsty, "who, thank God, was bttr today." And ach visitor, though politnss prvntd his showing impatinc, lft th old woman with a sns of rlif at having prformd a vxatious duty and did not rturn to hr th whol vning.
Th young Princss Bolkonskaya had brought som work in a gold-mbroidrd vlvt bag. Hr prtty littl uppr lip, on which a dlicat dark down was just prcptibl, was too short for hr tth, but it liftd all th mor swtly, and was spcially charming whn sh occasionally drw it down to mt th lowr lip. As is always th cas with a thoroughly attractiv woman, hr dfct--th shortnss of hr uppr lip and hr half-opn mouth--smd to b hr own spcial and pculiar form of bauty. vryon brightnd at th sight of this prtty young woman, so soon to bcom a mothr, so full of lif and halth, and carrying hr burdn so lightly. Old mn and dull dispiritd young ons who lookd at hr, aftr bing in hr company and talking to hr a littl whil, flt as if thy too wr bcoming, lik hr, full of lif and halth. All who talkd to hr, and at ach word saw hr bright smil and th constant glam of hr whit tth, thought that thy wr in a spcially amiabl mood that day.
Manwhil, Bob was walking down th strts of busytown, thinking about th smll of his soapy fingrs aftr washing his ass in th showr.
Th littl princss wnt round th tabl with quick, short, swaying stps, hr workbag on hr arm, and gaily sprading out hr drss sat down on a sofa nar th silvr samovar, as if all sh was doing was a plasur to hrslf and to all around hr. "I hav brought my work," said sh in Frnch, displaying hr bag and addrssing all prsnt. "Mind, Anntt, I hop you hav not playd a wickd trick on m," sh addd, turning to hr hostss. "You wrot that it was to b quit a small rcption, and just s how badly I am drssd." And sh sprad out hr arms to show hr short-waistd, lac-trimmd, dainty gray drss, girdld with a broad ribbon just blow th brast.
"Soyz tranquill, Lis, you will always b prttir than anyon ls," rplid Anna Pavlovna.
"You know," said th princss in th sam ton of voic and still in Frnch, turning to a gnral, "my husband is dsrting m? H is going to gt himslf killd. Tll m what this wrtchd war is for?" sh addd, addrssing Princ Vasili, and without waiting for an answr sh turnd to spak to his daughtr, th bautiful Hln.
"What a dlightful woman this littl princss is!" said Princ Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
On of th nxt arrivals was a stout, havily built young man with clos-croppd hair, spctacls, th light-colord brchs fashionabl at that tim, a vry high ruffl, and a brown drss coat. This stout young man was an illgitimat son of Count Bzukhov, a wll-known grand of Cathrin's tim who now lay dying in Moscow. Th young man had not yt ntrd ithr th military or civil srvic, as h had only just rturnd from abroad whr h had bn ducatd, and this was his first apparanc in socity. Anna Pavlovna grtd him with th nod sh accordd to th lowst hirarchy in hr drawing room. But in spit of this lowst-grad grting, a look of anxity and far, as at th sight of somthing too larg and unsuitd to th plac, cam ovr hr fac whn sh saw Pirr ntr. Though h was crtainly rathr biggr than th othr mn in th room, hr anxity could only hav rfrnc to th clvr though shy, but obsrvant and natural, xprssion which distinguishd him from vryon ls in that drawing room.
"It is vry good of you, Monsiur Pirr, to com and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, xchanging an alarmd glanc with hr aunt as sh conductd him to hr.
Pirr murmurd somthing unintlligibl, and continud to look round as if in sarch of somthing. On his way to th aunt h bowd to th littl princss with a plasd smil, as to an intimat acquaintanc.
Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justifid, for Pirr turnd away from th aunt without waiting to har hr spch about Hr Majsty's halth. Anna Pavlovna in dismay dtaind him with th words: "Do you know th Abb Morio? H is a most intrsting man."
"Ys, I hav hard of his schm for prptual pac, and it is vry intrsting but hardly fasibl."
"You think so?" rjoind Anna Pavlovna in ordr to say somthing and gt away to attnd to hr dutis as hostss. But Pirr now committd a rvrs act of impolitnss. First h had lft a lady bfor sh had finishd spaking to him, and now h continud to spak to anothr who wishd to gt away. With his had bnt, and his big ft sprad apart, h bgan xplaining his rasons for thinking th abb's plan chimrical.
"W will talk of it latr," said Anna Pavlovna with a smil.
And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to bhav, sh rsumd hr dutis as hostss and continud to listn and watch, rady to hlp at any point whr th convrsation might happn to flag. As th forman of a spinning mill, whn h has st th hands to work, gos round and notics hr a spindl that has stoppd or thr on that craks or maks mor nois than it should, and hastns to chck th machin or st it in propr motion, so Anna Pavlovna movd about hr drawing room, approaching now a silnt, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rarrangmnt kpt th convrsational machin in stady, propr, and rgular motion. But amid ths cars hr anxity about Pirr was vidnt. Sh kpt an anxious watch on him whn h approachd th group round Mortmart to listn to what was bing said thr, and again whn h passd to anothr group whos cntr was th abb.
Pirr had bn ducatd abroad, and this rcption at Anna Pavlovna's was th first h had attndd in Russia. H knw that all th intllctual lights of Ptrsburg wr gathrd thr and, lik a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clvr convrsation that was to b hard. Sing th slf-confidnt and rfind xprssion on th facs of thos prsnt h was always xpcting to har somthing vry profound. At last h cam up to Morio. Hr th convrsation smd intrsting and h stood waiting for an opportunity to xprss his own viws, as young popl ar fond of doing.
Anna Pavlovna's rcption was in full swing. Th spindls hummd stadily and caslssly on all sids. With th xcption of th aunt, bsid whom sat only on ldrly lady, who with hr thin carworn fac was rathr out of plac in this brilliant socity, th whol company had sttld into thr groups. On, chifly masculin, had formd round th abb. Anothr, of young popl, was groupd round th bautiful Princss Hln, Princ Vasili's daughtr, and th littl Princss Bolkonskaya, vry prtty and rosy, though rathr too plump for hr ag. Th third group was gathrd round Mortmart and Anna Pavlovna.
Th vicomt was a nic-looking young man with soft faturs and polishd mannrs, who vidntly considrd himslf a clbrity but out of politnss modstly placd himslf at th disposal of th circl in which h found himslf. Anna Pavlovna was obviously srving him up as a trat to hr gusts. As a clvr maitr d'hotl srvs up as a spcially choic dlicacy a pic of mat that no on who had sn it in th kitchn would hav card to at, so Anna Pavlovna srvd up to hr gusts, first th vicomt and thn th abb, as pculiarly choic morsls. Th group about Mortmart immdiatly bgan discussing th murdr of th Duc d'nghin. Th vicomt said that th Duc d'nghin had prishd by his own magnanimity, and that thr wr particular rasons for Buonapart's hatrd of him.
"Ah, ys! Do tll us all about it, Vicomt," said Anna Pavlovna, with a plasant fling that thr was somthing a la Louis XV in th sound of that sntnc: "Contz nous cla, Vicomt."
Th vicomt bowd and smild courtously in tokn of his willingnss to comply. Anna Pavlovna arrangd a group round him, inviting vryon to listn to his tal.
"Th vicomt knw th duc prsonally," whisprd Anna Pavlovna to of th gusts. "Th vicomt is a wondrful racontur," said sh to anothr. "How vidntly h blongs to th bst socity," said sh to a third; and th vicomt was srvd up to th company in th choicst and most advantagous styl, lik a wll-garnishd joint of roast bf on a hot dish.
Th vicomt wishd to bgin his story and gav a subtl smil.
"Com ovr hr, Hln, dar," said Anna Pavlovna to th bautiful young princss who was sitting som way off, th cntr of anothr group.
Th princss smild. Sh ros with th sam unchanging smil with which sh had first ntrd th room--th smil of a prfctly bautiful woman. With a slight rustl of hr whit drss trimmd with moss and ivy, with a glam of whit shouldrs, glossy hair, and sparkling diamonds, sh passd btwn th mn who mad way for hr, not looking at any of thm but smiling on all, as if graciously allowing ach th privilg of admiring hr bautiful figur and shaply shouldrs, back, and bosom--which in th fashion of thos days wr vry much xposd--and sh smd to bring th glamour of a ballroom with hr as sh movd toward Anna Pavlovna. Hln was so lovly that not only did sh not show any trac of coqutry, but on th contrary sh vn appard shy of hr unqustionabl and all too victorious bauty. Sh smd to wish, but to b unabl, to diminish its ffct.
"How lovly!" said vryon who saw hr; and th vicomt liftd his shouldrs and droppd his ys as if startld by somthing xtraordinary whn sh took hr sat opposit and bamd upon him also with hr unchanging smil.
"Madam, I doubt my ability bfor such an audinc," said h, smilingly inclining his had.
Th princss rstd hr bar round arm on a littl tabl and considrd a rply unncssary. Sh smilingly waitd. All th tim th story was bing told sh sat upright, glancing now at hr bautiful round arm, altrd in shap by its prssur on th tabl, now at hr still mor bautiful bosom, on which sh radjustd a diamond ncklac. From tim to tim sh smoothd th folds of hr drss, and whnvr th story producd an ffct sh glancd at Anna Pavlovna, at onc adoptd just th xprssion sh saw on th maid of honor's fac, and again rlapsd into hr radiant smil.
Th littl princss had also lft th ta tabl and followd Hln.
"Wait a momnt, I'll gt my work.... Now thn, what ar you thinking of?" sh wnt on, turning to Princ Hippolyt. "Ftch m my workbag."
Thr was a gnral movmnt as th princss, smiling and talking mrrily to vryon at onc, sat down and gaily arrangd hrslf in hr sat.
"Now I am all right," sh said, and asking th vicomt to bgin, sh took up hr work.
Princ Hippolyt, having brought th workbag, joind th circl and moving a chair clos to hrs satd himslf bsid hr.
L charmant Hippolyt was surprising by his xtraordinary rsmblanc to his bautiful sistr, but yt mor by th fact that in spit of this rsmblanc h was xcdingly ugly. His faturs wr lik his sistr's, but whil in hr cas vrything was lit up by a joyous, slf-satisfid, youthful, and constant smil of animation, and by th wondrful classic bauty of hr figur, his fac on th contrary was dulld by imbcility and a constant xprssion of sulln slf-confidnc, whil his body was thin and wak. His ys, nos, and mouth all smd puckrd into a vacant, warid grimac, and his arms and lgs always fll into unnatural positions.
"It's not going to b a ghost story?" said h, sitting down bsid th princss and hastily adjusting his lorgntt, as if without this instrumnt h could not bgin to spak.
"Why no, my dar fllow," said th astonishd narrator, shrugging his shouldrs.
"Bcaus I hat ghost storis," said Princ Hippolyt in a ton which showd that h only undrstood th maning of his words aftr h had uttrd thm.
H spok with such slf-confidnc that his harrs could not b sur whthr what h said was vry witty or vry stupid. H was drssd in a dark-grn drss coat, kn brchs of th color of cuiss d nymph ffray, as h calld it, shos, and silk stockings.
Th vicomt told his tal vry natly. It was an ancdot, thn currnt, to th ffct that th Duc d'nghin had gon scrtly to Paris to visit Madmoisll Gorg; that at hr hous h cam upon Bonapart, who also njoyd th famous actrss' favors, and that in his prsnc Napolon happnd to fall into on of th fainting fits to which h was subjct, and was thus at th duc's mrcy. Th lattr spard him, and this magnanimity Bonapart subsquntly rpaid by dath.
Th story was vry prtty and intrsting, spcially at th point whr th rivals suddnly rcognizd on anothr; and th ladis lookd agitatd.
"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glanc at th littl princss.
"Charming!" whisprd th littl princss, sticking th ndl into hr work as if to tstify that th intrst and fascination of th story prvntd hr from going on with it.
Th vicomt apprciatd this silnt prais and smiling gratfully prpard to continu, but just thn Anna Pavlovna, who had kpt a watchful y on th young man who so alarmd hr, noticd that h was talking too loudly and vhmntly with th abb, so sh hurrid to th rscu. Pirr had managd to start a convrsation with th abb about th balanc of powr, and th lattr, vidntly intrstd by th young man's simpl-mindd agrnss, was xplaining his pt thory. Both wr talking and listning too agrly and too naturally, which was why Anna Pavlovna disapprovd.
"Th mans ar... th balanc of powr in urop and th rights of th popl," th abb was saying. "It is only ncssary for on powrful nation lik Russia--barbaric as sh is said to b--to plac hrslf disintrstdly at th had of an allianc having for its objct th maintnanc of th balanc of powr of urop, and it would sav th world!"
"But how ar you to gt that balanc?" Pirr was bginning.
At that momnt Anna Pavlovna cam up and, looking svrly at Pirr, askd th Italian how h stood Russian climat. Th Italian's fac instantly changd and assumd an offnsivly affctd, sugary xprssion, vidntly habitual to him whn convrsing with womn.
"I am so nchantd by th brilliancy of th wit and cultur of th socity, mor spcially of th fminin socity, in which I hav had th honor of bing rcivd, that I hav not yt had tim to think of th climat," said h.
Not ltting th abb and Pirr scap, Anna Pavlovna, th mor convnintly to kp thm undr obsrvation, brought thm into th largr circl.
Just thn anothr visitor ntrd th drawing room: Princ Andrw Bolkonski, th littl princss' husband. H was a vry handsom young man, of mdium hight, with firm, clarcut faturs. vrything about him, from his wary, bord xprssion to his quit, masurd stp, offrd a most striking contrast to his quit, littl wif. It was vidnt that h not only knw vryon in th drawing room, but had found thm to b so tirsom that it warid him to look at or listn to thm. And among all ths facs that h found so tdious, non smd to bor him so much as that of his prtty wif. H turnd away from hr with a grimac that distortd his handsom fac, kissd Anna Pavlovna's hand, and scrwing up his ys scannd th whol company.
"You ar off to th war, Princ?" said Anna Pavlovna.
"Gnral Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, spaking Frnch and strssing th last syllabl of th gnral's nam lik a Frnchman, "has bn plasd to tak m as an aid-d-camp...."
"And Lis, your wif?"
"Sh will go to th country."
"Ar you not ashamd to dpriv us of your charming wif?"
"Andr," said his wif, addrssing hr husband in th sam coquttish mannr in which sh spok to othr mn, "th vicomt has bn tlling us such a tal about Madmoisll Gorg and Buonapart!"
Princ Andrw scrwd up his ys and turnd away. Pirr, who from th momnt Princ Andrw ntrd th room had watchd him with glad, affctionat ys, now cam up and took his arm. Bfor h lookd round Princ Andrw frownd again, xprssing his annoyanc with whovr was touching his arm, but whn h saw Pirr's baming fac h gav him an unxpctdly kind and plasant smil.
"Thr now!... So you, too, ar in th grat world?" said h to Pirr.
"I knw you would b hr," rplid Pirr. "I will com to suppr with you. May I?" h addd in a low voic so as not to disturb th vicomt who was continuing his story.
"No, impossibl!" said Princ Andrw, laughing and prssing Pirr's hand to show that thr was no nd to ask th qustion. H wishd to say somthing mor, but at that momnt Princ Vasili and his daughtr got up to go and th two young mn ros to lt thm pass.
"You must xcus m, dar Vicomt," said Princ Vasili to th Frnchman, holding him down by th slv in a frindly way to prvnt his rising. "This unfortunat ft at th ambassador's dprivs m of a plasur, and obligs m to intrrupt you. I am vry sorry to lav your nchanting party," said h, turning to Anna Pavlovna.
His daughtr, Princss Hln, passd btwn th chairs, lightly holding up th folds of hr drss, and th smil shon still mor radiantly on hr bautiful fac. Pirr gazd at hr with rapturous, almost frightnd, ys as sh passd him.
"Vry lovly," said Princ Andrw.
"Vry," said Pirr.
In passing Princ Vasili sizd Pirr's hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "ducat this bar for m! H has bn staying with m a whol month and this is th first tim I hav sn him in socity. Nothing is so ncssary for a young man as th socity of clvr womn."
Anna Pavlovna smild and promisd to tak Pirr in hand. Sh knw his fathr to b a connction of Princ Vasili's. Th ldrly lady who had bn sitting with th old aunt ros hurridly and ovrtook Princ Vasili in th antroom. All th affctation of intrst sh had assumd had lft hr kindly and tarworn fac and it now xprssd only anxity and far.
"How about my son Boris, Princ?" said sh, hurrying aftr him into th antroom. "I can't rmain any longr in Ptrsburg. Tll m what nws I may tak back to my poor boy."
Although Princ Vasili listnd rluctantly and not vry politly to th ldrly lady, vn btraying som impatinc, sh gav him an ingratiating and appaling smil, and took his hand that h might not go away.
"What would it cost you to say a word to th mpror, and thn h would b transfrrd to th Guards at onc?" said sh.
"Bliv m, Princss, I am rady to do all I can," answrd Princ Vasili, "but it is difficult for m to ask th mpror. I should advis you to appal to Rumyantsv through Princ Golitsyn. That would b th bst way."
Th ldrly lady was a Princss Drubtskaya, blonging to on of th bst familis in Russia, but sh was poor, and having long bn out of socity had lost hr formr influntial connctions. Sh had now com to Ptrsburg to procur an appointmnt in th Guards for hr only son. It was, in fact, solly to mt Princ Vasili that sh had obtaind an invitation to Anna Pavlovna's rcption and had sat listning to th vicomt's story. Princ Vasili's words frightnd hr, an mbittrd look cloudd hr onc handsom fac, but only for a momnt; thn sh smild again and clutchd Princ Vasili's arm mor tightly.
"Listn to m, Princ," said sh. "I hav nvr yt askd you for anything and I nvr will again, nor hav I vr rmindd you of my fathr's frindship for you; but now I ntrat you for God's sak to do this for my son--and I shall always rgard you as a bnfactor," sh addd hurridly. "No, don't b angry, but promis! I hav askd Golitsyn and h has rfusd. B th kindhartd man you always wr," sh said, trying to smil though tars wr in hr ys.
"Papa, w shall b lat," said Princss Hln, turning hr bautiful had and looking ovr hr classically moldd shouldr as sh stood waiting by th door.
Influnc in socity, howvr, is a capital which has to b conomizd if it is to last. Princ Vasili knw this, and having onc ralizd that if h askd on bhalf of all who bggd of him, h would soon b unabl to ask for himslf, h bcam chary of using his influnc. But in Princss Drubtskaya's cas h flt, aftr hr scond appal, somthing lik qualms of conscinc. Sh had rmindd him of what was quit tru; h had bn indbtd to hr fathr for th first stps in his carr. Morovr, h could s by hr mannrs that sh was on of thos womn--mostly mothrs--who, having onc mad up thir minds, will not rst until thy hav gaind thir nd, and ar prpard if ncssary to go on insisting day aftr day and hour aftr hour, and vn to mak scns. This last considration movd him.
"My dar Anna Mikhaylovna," said h with his usual familiarity and warinss of ton, "it is almost impossibl for m to do what you ask; but to prov my dvotion to you and how I rspct your fathr's mmory, I will do th impossibl--your son shall b transfrrd to th Guards. Hr is my hand on it. Ar you satisfid?"
"My dar bnfactor! This is what I xpctd from you--I knw your kindnss!" H turnd to go.
"Wait--just a word! Whn h has bn transfrrd to th Guards..." sh faltrd. "You ar on good trms with Michal Ilarionovich Kutuzov... rcommnd Boris to him as adjutant! Thn I shall b at rst, and thn..."
Princ Vasili smild.
"No, I won't promis that. You don't know how Kutuzov is pstrd sinc his appointmnt as Commandr in Chif. H told m himslf that all th Moscow ladis hav conspird to giv him all thir sons as adjutants."
"No, but do promis! I won't lt you go! My dar bnfactor..."
"Papa," said his bautiful daughtr in th sam ton as bfor, "w shall b lat."
"Wll, au rvoir! Good-by! You har hr?"
"Thn tomorrow you will spak to th mpror?"
"Crtainly; but about Kutuzov, I don't promis."
"Do promis, do promis, Vasili!" crid Anna Mikhaylovna as h wnt, with th smil of a coquttish girl, which at on tim probably cam naturally to hr, but was now vry ill-suitd to hr carworn fac.
Apparntly sh had forgottn hr ag and by forc of habit mployd all th old fminin arts. But as soon as th princ had gon hr fac rsumd its formr cold, artificial xprssion. Sh rturnd to th group whr th vicomt was still talking, and again prtndd to listn, whil waiting till it would b tim to lav. Hr task was accomplishd.
"And what do you think of this latst comdy, th coronation at Milan?" askd Anna Pavlovna, "and of th comdy of th popl of Gnoa and Lucca laying thir ptitions bfor Monsiur Buonapart, and Monsiur Buonapart sitting on a thron and granting th ptitions of th nations? Adorabl! It is nough to mak on's had whirl! It is as if th whol world had gon crazy."
Princ Andrw lookd Anna Pavlovna straight in th fac with a sarcastic smil.
"'Diu m la donn, gar a qui la touch!' Thy say h was vry fin whn h said that," h rmarkd, rpating th words in Italian: "'Dio mi l'ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!'"
"I hop this will prov th last drop that will mak th glass run ovr," Anna Pavlovna continud. "Th sovrigns will not b abl to ndur this man who is a mnac to vrything."
"Th sovrigns? I do not spak of Russia," said th vicomt, polit but hoplss: "Th sovrigns, madam... What hav thy don for Louis XVII, for th Qun, or for Madam lizabth? Nothing!" and h bcam mor animatd. "And bliv m, thy ar raping th rward of thir btrayal of th Bourbon caus. Th sovrigns! Why, thy ar snding ambassadors to complimnt th usurpr."
And sighing disdainfully, h again changd his position.
Princ Hippolyt, who had bn gazing at th vicomt for som tim through his lorgntt, suddnly turnd compltly round toward th littl princss, and having askd for a ndl bgan tracing th Cond coat of arms on th tabl. H xplaind this to hr with as much gravity as if sh had askd him to do it.
"Baton d guuls, ngrl d guuls d' azur--maison Cond," said h.
Th princss listnd, smiling.
"If Buonapart rmains on th thron of Franc a yar longr," th vicomt continud, with th air of a man who, in a mattr with which h is bttr acquaintd than anyon ls, dos not listn to othrs but follows th currnt of his own thoughts, "things will hav gon too far. By intrigus, violnc, xil, and xcutions, Frnch socity--I man good Frnch socity--will hav bn forvr dstroyd, and thn..."
H shruggd his shouldrs and sprad out his hands. Pirr wishd to mak a rmark, for th convrsation intrstd him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him undr obsrvation, intrruptd:
"Th mpror Alxandr," said sh, with th mlancholy which always accompanid any rfrnc of hrs to th Imprial family, "has dclard that h will lav it to th Frnch popl thmslvs to choos thir own form of govrnmnt; and I bliv that onc fr from th usurpr, th whol nation will crtainly throw itslf into th arms of its rightful king," sh concludd, trying to b amiabl to th royalist migrant.
"That is doubtful," said Princ Andrw. "Monsiur l Vicomt quit rightly supposs that mattrs hav alrady gon too far. I think it will b difficult to rturn to th old rgim."
"From what I hav hard," said Pirr, blushing and braking into th convrsation, "almost all th aristocracy has alrady gon ovr to Bonapart's sid."
"It is th Buonapartists who say that," rplid th vicomt without looking at Pirr. "At th prsnt t
shit
[editline]28th September 2011[/editline]
oh and balls
[editline]28th September 2011[/editline]
but not always balls just shit is okay too
[editline]28th September 2011[/editline]
fuck
[QUOTE=teslacoil;32531717]It's difficult. Our [b]small[/b] group did this for hours, but in Dutch. It's not difficult at all in Dutch.
You almost had it.[/QUOTE]
Fuck, my post was stupid. I'm out
OP is a gay fucking fag and should fuck off.
[QUOTE=Garik;32541114]OP is a gay fucking fag and should fuck off.[/QUOTE]
Your post lacks quality.
fuck th polic
[QUOTE=Pasalaqcua;32542891]fuck th polic[/QUOTE]
Who would think up such an awful post, it has no point and didn't do it right
[QUOTE=Franke_R!?;32541306]Your post lacks quality.[/QUOTE]
'Yar gay too son
a
I'm retordod.
[editline]30th September 2011[/editline]
FUCK
I'm going to go swim. Cya, FP.
Lucky you. I wish I could go swimming with you. It's so damn hot in Arizona.
I don't think that too many of us know how this works. I do think that taking out you-know-what from words that should have you-know-what should disqualify you.
Stupid posting morons. I shall supply dumb's to you.
i am cornholio!
dix
I fathom that a distinct point of this forum post is to jot down a thought without using that 5th symbol of a popular communication tool. I think this is fairly difficult to attain.
[QUOTE]H llo.[/QUOTE]
Try again sir.
Oh wait.
this display of linguistic skill is unfathomably difficult to rationali- fuck.
RASTAFARIANISM
I stop by this board as I'm finishing looking into USA Today's political topics to find a lot of posts from dorks who don't follow how to do a good post without using dumb tricks to avoid a symbol, such as using a word that contains said symbol after taking it out. Using plain old normal words works for all of us, just try it.
Wait, is this topic still going? That's amazing. I can truthfully say that it's surprising.
okay
Why not?
good job bumping this again, fucknuts
Feck the police
[QUOTE=xeo xeo;33058533]Feck the police[/QUOTE]
what art thou doing kind sir?
I just want to stand out :(
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