Why, no, I answered, rather surprised by his tone.
Well, its a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we dont look out the white race will be will be utterly submerged. Its all scientific stuff; its been proved.
Toms getting very profound, said Daisy, with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we
Well, these books are all scientific, unthoughtful sadness Tom, glancing at her impatiently. This fellow has worked out the whole thing. Its up to us, who are the dominant race, to watch out or these other races will have control of things.
Weve got to beat them down, whispered Daisy, winking ferociously toward the fervent sun.
You ought to live in California began Miss Baker, but Tom interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair.
This idea is that were Nordics[21]. I am, and you are, and you are, and After an infinitesimal hesitation he included Daisy with a slight nod, and she winked at me again. And weve produced all the things that go to make civilization oh, science and art, and all that. Do you see?
There was something pathetic in his concentration, as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him anymore. When, almost immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy seized upon the momentary interruption and leaned toward me.
Ill tell you a family secret, she whispered enthusiastically. Its about the butlers nose. Do you want to hear about the butlers nose?
Thats why I came over to-night.
Well, he wasnt always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. He had to polish it from morning till night, until finally it began to affect his nose
Things went from bad to worse, suggested Miss Baker.
Yes. Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position.
For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.
The butler came back and murmured something close to Toms ear, whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair, and without a word went inside. As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
The butler came back and murmured something close to Toms ear, whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair, and without a word went inside. As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
I love to see you at my table, Nick. You remind me of a of a rose, an absolute rose. Doesnt he? She turned to Miss Baker for confirmation: An absolute rose?
This was untrue. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.
Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of meaning. I was about to speak when she sat up alertly and said Sh! in a warning voice. A subdued impassioned murmur was audible in the room beyond, and Miss Baker leaned forward unashamed, trying to hear. The murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted excitedly, and then ceased altogether.
This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbour I began.
Dont talk. I want to hear what happens.
Is something happening? I inquired innocently.
You mean to say you dont know? said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. I thought everybody knew.
I dont.
Why she said hesitantly, Toms got some woman in New York.
Got some woman? I repeated blankly.
Miss Baker nodded.
She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner time. Dont you think?
Almost before I had grasped her meaning there was the flutter of a dress and the crunch of leather boots, and Tom and Daisy were back at the table.
It couldnt be helped! cried Daisy with tense gaiety.
She sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me, and continued: I looked outdoors for a minute, and its very romantic outdoors. Theres a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale come over on the Cunard or White Star Line[22]. Hes singing away Her voice sang: Its romantic, isnt it, Tom?
Very romantic, he said, and then miserably to me: If its light enough after dinner, I want to take you down to the stables.
The telephone rang inside, startlingly, and as Daisy shook her head decisively at Tom the subject of the stables, in fact all subjects, vanished into air. Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at every one, and yet to avoid all eyes. I couldnt guess what Daisy and Tom were thinking, but I doubt if even Miss Baker, who seemed to have mastered a certain hardy scepticism, was able utterly to put this fifth guests shrill metallic urgency out of mind. To a certain temperament the situation might have seemed intriguing my own instinct was to telephone immediately for the police.
The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again. Tom and Miss Baker, with several feet[23] of twilight between them, strolled back into the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while, trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf, I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front. In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee.
Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk. I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl.
We dont know each other very well, Nick, she said suddenly. Even if we are cousins. You didnt come to my wedding.
I wasnt back from the war.
Thats true. She hesitated. Well, Ive had a very bad time, Nick, and Im pretty cynical about everything.
Evidently she had reason to be. I waited but she didnt say any more, and after a moment I returned rather feebly to the subject of her daughter.
I suppose she talks, and eats, and everything.
Oh, yes. She looked at me absently. Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?
Very much.
Itll show you how Ive gotten to feel about things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. All right, I said, Im glad its a girl. And I hope shell be a fool thats the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.
You see I think everythings terrible anyhow, she went on in a convinced way. Everybody thinks so the most advanced people. And I know. Ive been everywhere and seen everything and done everything. Her eyes flashed around her in a defiant way, rather like Toms, and she laughed with thrilling scorn. Sophisticated God, Im sophisticated!
The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, my belief, I felt the basic insincerity of what she had said. It made me uneasy, as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me. I waited, and sure enough, in a moment she looked at me with an absolute smirk on her lovely face, as if she had asserted her membership in a rather distinguished secret society to which she and Tom belonged.
* * *Inside, the crimson room bloomed with light. Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the Saturday Evening Post[24] the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune. The lamp-light, bright on his boots and dull on the autumn-leaf yellow of her hair, glinted along the paper as she turned a page with a flutter of slender muscles in her arms.
When we came in she held us silent for a moment with a lifted hand.
To be continued, she said, tossing the magazine on the table, in our very next issue.
Her body asserted itself with a restless movement of her knee, and she stood up.
Ten oclock, she remarked, apparently finding the time on the ceiling. Time for this good girl to go to bed.
Jordans going to play in the tournament tomorrow, explained Daisy, over at Westchester.
Oh youre Jordan Baker.
I knew now why her face was familiar its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure[25] pictures of the sporting life at Asheville[26] and Hot Springs[27] and Palm Beach[28]. I had heard some story of her too, a critical, unpleasant story, but what it was I had forgotten long ago.
Good night, she said softly. Wake me at eight wont you.
If youll get up.
I will. Good night, Mr. Carraway. See you anon.
Of course you will, confirmed Daisy. In fact I think Ill arrange a marriage. Come over often, Nick, and Ill sort of oh fling you together. You know lock you up accidentally in linen closets and push you out to sea in a boat, and all that sort of thing
Good night, called Miss Baker from the stairs. I havent heard a word.
Good night, called Miss Baker from the stairs. I havent heard a word.
Shes a nice girl, said Tom after a moment. They oughtnt to let her run around the country this way.
Who oughtnt to? inquired Daisy coldly.
Her family.
Her family is one aunt about a thousand years old. Besides, Nicks going to look after her, arent you, Nick? Shes going to spend lots of week-ends out here this summer. I think the home influence will be very good for her.
Daisy and Tom looked at each other for a moment in silence.
Is she from New York? I asked quickly.
From Louisville[29]. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Our beautiful white
Did you give Nick a little heart to heart talk on the veranda? demanded Tom suddenly.
Did I? She looked at me. I cant seem to remember, but I think we talked about the Nordic race[30]. Yes, Im sure we did. It sort of crept up on us and first thing you know
Dont believe everything you hear, Nick, he advised me.