She turned her head as there was a light, dignified knocking at the front door. I went out and opened it. Gatsby, pale as death, with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes.

With his hands still in his coat pockets he stalked by me into the hall, turned sharply as if he were on a wire and disappeared into the living room. It wasn’t a bit funny. Aware of the loud beating of my own heart I pulled the door to against the increasing rain.
For half a minute there wasn’t a sound. Then from the living room I heard a sort of choking murmur and part of a laugh followed by Daisy’s voice on a clear artificial note.

‘I certainly am awfully glad to see you again.’

A pause; it endured horribly. I had nothing to do in the hall so I went into the room.

Gatsby, his hands still in his pockets, was reclining against the mantelpiece in a strained counterfeit of perfect ease, even of boredom. His head leaned back so far that it rested against the face of a defunct mantelpiece clock and from this position his distraught eyes stared down at Daisy who was sitting frightened but graceful on the edge of a stiff chair.

‘We’ve met before,’ muttered Gatsby. His eyes glanced momentarily at me and his lips parted with an abortive attempt at a laugh. Luckily the clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his head, whereupon he turned and caught it with trembling fingers and set it back in place. Then he sat down, rigidly, his elbow on the arm of the sofa and his chin in his hand.

‘I’m sorry about the clock,’ he said.

My own face had now assumed a deep tropical burn. I couldn’t muster up a single commonplace out of the thou- sand in my head.

‘It’s an old clock,’ I told them idiotically.
I think we all believed for a moment that it had smashed in pieces on the floor.

‘We haven’t met for many years,’ said Daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact as it could ever be.
‘Five years next November.’

正在此刻大门上有人斯文地轻轻敲了一声，她转过头去看。我走到外面去开门。盖茨比面如死灰，那只手像重东西一样揣在上衣口袋里，两只脚站在一摊水里，神色凄惶地瞪着我的眼睛。他阔步从我身边跨进门廊，手还揣在上衣口袋里，仿佛受牵线操纵似的突然一转身，走进起居室不见了。那样子一点也不滑稽。我意识到自己的心也在扑通扑通跳。外面雨下大了，我伸手把大门关上。有半分钟之久，一点声音也没有。然后我听到从起居室里传来一阵哽咽似的低语声和一点笑声，跟着就是黛西的嘹亮而做作的声音：“又见到你，我真高兴极了。”一阵静寂；时间长得可怕。我在门廊里没事可做，于是我走进了屋子里。盖茨比两手仍然揣在口袋里，正斜倚在壁炉架上，勉强装出一副悠然自得、甚至无精打采的神气。他的头往后仰，一直碰到一架早已报废的大台钟的钟面上；他那双显得心神错乱的眼睛从这个位置向下盯着黛西，她坐在一张硬背椅子的边上，神色惶恐，姿态倒很优美。“我们以前见过，”盖茨比咕哝着说。他瞥了我一眼，嘴唇张开想笑又没笑出来。幸好那架钟由于他的头的压力就在这一刻摇摇欲坠，他连忙转过身来用颤抖的手指把钟抓住，放回原处。然后他坐了下来，直挺挺地，胳臂肘放在沙发扶手上，手托住下巴。“对不起，把钟碰了，”他说。我自己的脸也涨得通红，像被热带的太阳晒过那样。我脑子里虽有千百句客套话，可是一句也说不出来。“是一架很旧的钟，”我呆头呆脑地告诉他们。我想我们大家当时有一会儿都相信那架钟已经在地板上砸得粉碎了。“我们多年不见了，”黛西说，她的声音尽可能地平板。“到十一月整整五年。”