It was this night that he told me the strange story of his youth with Dan Cody—told it to me because ‘Jay Gatsby’ had broken up like glass against Tom’s hard malice and the long secret extravaganza was played out. I think that he would have acknowledged anything, now, without reserve, but he wanted to talk about Daisy.

She was the first ‘nice’ girl he had ever known. In various unrevealed capacities he had come in contact with such people but always with indiscernible barbed wire between. He found her excitingly desirable. He went to her house, at first with other officers from Camp Taylor, then alone.

It amazed him—he had never been in such a beautiful house before. But what gave it an air of breathless intensity was that Daisy lived there—it was as casual a thing to her as his tent out at camp was to him. There was a ripe mystery about it, a hint of bedrooms upstairs more beautiful and cool than other bedrooms, of gay and radiant activities taking place through its corridors and of romances that were not musty and laid away already in lavender but fresh and breathing and redolent of this year’s shining motor cars and of dances whose flowers were scarcely withered.

It excited him too that many men had already loved Daisy—it increased her value in his eyes. He felt their presence all about the house, pervading the air with the shades and echoes of still vibrant emotions.
But he knew that he was in Daisy’s house by a colossal accident. However glorious might be his future as Jay Gatsby, he was at present a penniless young man without a past, and at any moment the invisible cloak of his uniform might slip from his shoulders. So he made the most of his time. He took what he could get, ravenously and unscrupulously— eventually he took Daisy one still October night, took her because he had no real right to touch her hand.

就是这天夜里，他把他跟丹·科迪度过的年轻时代的离奇故事告诉了我，因为“杰伊·盖茨比”已经像玻璃一样在汤姆的铁硬的恶意上碰得粉碎，那出漫长的秘密狂想剧也演完了。我想他这时什么都可以毫无保留地承认，但他只想谈黛西的事。她是他所认识的第一个“大家闺秀”。他以前以各种未透露的身份也曾和这一类人接触过，但每次总有一层无形的铁丝网隔在中间。他为她神魂颠倒。他到她家里去，起先和泰勒营的其他军官一起去，后来单独前往。她的家使他惊异——他从来没进过这样美丽的住宅。但是其所以有一种扣人心弦的强烈的情调却是因为她住在那里——这房子对于她就像他在军营里的帐篷对于他一样的平淡无奇。这房子充满了引人入胜的神秘气氛，仿佛暗示楼上有许多比其他卧室都美丽而凉爽的卧室，走廊里到处都是赏心乐事，还有许多风流艳史——不是霉烘烘、用熏香草保存起来的，而是活生生的，使人联想到今年的雪亮的汽车，联想到鲜花还没凋谢的舞会。很多男人曾经爱过黛西，这也使他激动——这在他眼中增高了她的身价。他感到她家里到处都有他们的存在；空气中弥漫着仍然颤动的感情的阴影和回声。但是，他明白他之所以能出入黛西家里纯粹是出于偶然。不管他作为杰伊·盖茨比会有何等的锦绣前程，目前他只是一个默默无闻、一文不名的青年人，而且他的军服——这件看不见的外衣随时都可能从他肩上滑落下来。因此他尽量利用他的时间。他占有了他所能得到的东西，狼吞虎咽，肆无忌惮——终于在一个静寂的十月的夜晚他占有了黛西，占有了她，正因为他并没有真正的权利去摸她的手。

The ‘death car’ as the newspapers called it, didn’t stop; it came out of the gathering darkness, wavered tragically for a moment and then disappeared around the next bend. Michaelis wasn’t even sure of its color—he told the first policeman that it was light green. The other car, the one going toward New York, came to rest a hundred yards beyond, and its driver hurried back to where Myrtle Wilson, her life violently extinguished, knelt in the road and mingled her thick, dark blood with the dust.

Michaelis and this man reached her first but when they had torn open her shirtwaist still damp with perspiration, they saw that her left breast was swinging loose like a flap and there was no need to listen for the heart beneath. The mouth was wide open and ripped at the corners as though she had choked a little in giving up the tremendous vitality she had stored so long.

Myrtle Wilson’s body wrapped in a blanket and then in another blanket as though she suffered from a chill in the hot night lay on a work table by the wall and Tom, with his back to us, was bending over it, motionless. Next to him stood a motorcycle policeman taking down names with much sweat and correction in a little book. At first I couldn’t find the source of the high, groaning words that echoed clamorously through the bare garage—then I saw Wilson standing on the raised threshold of his office, swaying back and forth and holding to the doorposts with both hands. Some man was talking to him in a low voice and attempting from time to time to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Wilson neither heard nor saw. His eyes would drop slowly from the swinging light to the laden table by the wall and then jerk back to the light again and he gave out incessantly his high horrible call.

那辆“凶车”——这是报纸上的提法——停都没停；车子从苍茫暮色中出现，出事后悲惨地犹疑了片刻，然后在前面一转弯就不见了。马弗罗·米切里斯连车子的颜色都说不准——他告诉第一个警察说是浅绿色。另一辆车，开往纽约的那一辆，开到一百码以外停了下来，开车的赶快跑回出事地点，茉特尔·威尔逊在那里跪在公路当中，死于非命，她那发黑的浓血和尘土混合在一起。米切里斯和这个人最先赶到她身旁，但等他们把她汗湿的衬衣撕开时，他们看见她左边的乳房已经松松地耷拉着，因此也不用再去听那下面的心脏了。她的嘴大张着，嘴角撕破了一点，仿佛她在放出储存了一辈子的无比旺盛的精力的时候噎了一下。那一圈人又合拢来，同时传出一阵咕咕哝哝的劝告声；有一两分钟我什么也看不见。后来新到的人又打乱了圈子，忽然间乔丹和我被挤到里面去了。茉特尔·威尔逊的尸体裹在一条毯子里，外面又包了一条毯子，仿佛在这炎热的夜晚她还怕冷似的。尸体放在墙边一张工作台上，汤姆背对着我们正低头在看，一动也不动。在他旁边站着一名摩托车警察，他正在把人名字往小本子上抄，一面流汗一面写了又涂改。起初我找不到那些在空空的车行里回荡的高昂的呻吟声的来源——然后我才看见威尔逊站在他办公室高高的门槛上，身体前后摆动着，双手抓着门框。有一个人在低声跟他说话，不时想把一只手放在他肩上，但威尔逊既听不到也看不见。他的目光从那盏摇晃的电灯慢慢地下移到墙边那张停着尸体的桌子上，然后又突然转回到那盏灯上，同时他不停地发出他那高亢的、可怕的呼号。

That locality was always vaguely disquieting, even in the broad glare of afternoon, and now I turned my head as though I had been warned of something behind. Over the ashheaps the giant eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg kept their vigil but I perceived, after a moment, that other eyes were regarding us with peculiar intensity from less than twenty feet away.
In one of the windows over the garage the curtains had been moved aside a little and Myrtle Wilson was peering down at the car. So engrossed was she that she had no consciousness of being observed and one emotion after another crept into her face like objects into a slowly developing picture. Her expression was curiously familiar—it was an expression I had often seen on women’s faces but on Myrtle Wilson’s face it seemed purposeless and inexplicable until I realized that her eyes, wide with jealous terror, were fixed not on Tom, but on Jordan Baker, whom she took to be his wife.

There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind, and as we drove away Tom was feeling the hot whips of panic. His wife and his mistress, until an hour ago secure and inviolate, were slipping precipitately from his control. Instinct made him step on the accelerator with the double purpose of overtaking Daisy and leaving Wilson behind, and we sped along toward Astoria at fifty miles an hour, until, among the spidery girders of the elevated, we came in sight of the easygoing blue coupé.

那一带地方一向隐隐约约使人感到心神不安，甚至在下午耀眼的阳光里也一样，因此现在我掉过头去，仿佛有人要我提防背后有什么东西。在灰堆上方，T·J·埃克尔堡大夫的巨眼在守望着，但是过了一会我觉察另外一双眼睛正在从不到二十英尺以外聚精会神地注视着我们。在车行上面一扇窗户面前，窗帘向旁边拉开了一点，茉特尔·威尔逊正在向下窥视着这辆车子。她那样全神贯注，因此她毫不觉察有人在注意她，一种接一种的感情在她脸上流露出来，好像物体出现在一张慢慢显影的照片上。她的表情熟悉得有点蹊跷——这是我时常在女人脸上看到的表情，可是在茉特尔·威尔逊的脸上，这种表情似乎毫无意义而且难以理解，直到我明白她那两只充满妒火、睁得大大的眼睛并不是盯在汤姆身上，而是盯在乔丹·贝克身上，原来她以为乔丹是他的妻子。一个简单的头脑陷入慌乱时是非同小可的，等到我们车子开走的时候，汤姆感到惊慌失措，心里像油煎一样。他的妻子和情妇，直到一小时前还是安安稳稳、不可侵犯的，现在却猛不防正从他的控制下溜走。本能促使他猛踩油门，以达到赶上黛西和把威尔逊抛在脑后的双重目的，于是我们以每小时五十英里的速度向阿斯托里亚飞驰而去。直到在高架铁路蜘蛛网似的钢架中间，我们才看见那辆逍遥自在的蓝色小轿车。