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The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Chapter 9 Part 1

Chapter 9 Part 1

After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and the next day, only as an endless drill of police and photographers and newspaper men in and out of Gatsby's front door. A rope stretched across the main gate and a policeman by it kept out the curious, but little boys soon discovered that they could enter through my yard, and there were always a few of them clustered open-mouthed about the pool. Someone with a positive manner, perhaps a detective, used the expression “madman” as he bent over Wilson's body that afternoon, and the adventitious authority of his voice set the key for the newspaper reports next morning.

Most of those reports were a nightmare—grotesque, circumstantial, eager, and untrue. When Michaelis's testimony at the inquest brought to light Wilson's suspicions of his wife I thought the whole tale would shortly be served up in racy pasquinade—but Catherine, who might have said anything, didn't say a word. She showed a surprising amount of character about it too—looked at the coroner with determined eyes under that corrected brow of hers, and swore that her sister had never seen Gatsby, that her sister was completely happy with her husband, that her sister had been into no mischief whatever. She convinced herself of it, and cried into her handkerchief, as if the very suggestion was more than she could endure. So Wilson was reduced to a man “deranged by grief” in order that the case might remain in its simplest form. And it rested there.

But all this part of it seemed remote and unessential. I found myself on Gatsby's side, and alone. From the moment I telephoned news of the catastrophe to West Egg village, every surmise about him, and every practical question, was referred to me. At first I was surprised and confused; then, as he lay in his house and didn't move or breathe or speak, hour upon hour, it grew upon me that I was responsible, because no one else was interested—interested, I mean, with that intense personal interest to which everyone has some vague right at the end.

I called up Daisy half an hour after we found him, called her instinctively and without hesitation. But she and Tom had gone away early that afternoon, and taken baggage with them.

“Left no address?”

“No.”

“Say when they'd be back?”

“No.”

“Any idea where they are? How I could reach them?”

“I don't know. Can't say.”

I wanted to get somebody for him. I wanted to go into the room where he lay and reassure him: “I'll get somebody for you, Gatsby. Don't worry. Just trust me and I'll get somebody for you—”

Meyer Wolfshiem's name wasn't in the phone book. The butler gave me his office address on Broadway, and I called Information, but by the time I had the number it was long after five, and no one answered the phone.

“Will you ring again?”

“I've rung three times.”

“It's very important.”

“Sorry. I'm afraid no one's there.”

I went back to the drawing-room and thought for an instant that they were chance visitors, all these official people who suddenly filled it. But, though they drew back the sheet and looked at Gatsby with shocked eyes, his protest continued in my brain:

“Look here, old sport, you've got to get somebody for me. You've got to try hard. I can't go through this alone.”

Someone started to ask me questions, but I broke away and going upstairs looked hastily through the unlocked parts of his desk—he'd never told me definitely that his parents were dead. But there was nothing—only the picture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence, staring down from the wall.

Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfshiem, which asked for information and urged him to come out on the next train. That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it. I was sure he'd start when he saw the newspapers, just as I was sure there'd be a wire from Daisy before noon—but neither a wire nor Mr. Wolfshiem arrived; no one arrived except more police and photographers and newspaper men. When the butler brought back Wolfshiem's answer I began to have a feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me against them all.

> Dear Mr. Carraway. This has been one of the most terrible shocks of my life to me I hardly can believe it that it is true at all. Such a mad act as that man did should make us all think. I cannot come down now as I am tied up in some very important business and cannot get mixed up in this thing now. If there is anything I can do a little later let me know in a letter by Edgar. I hardly know where I am when I hear about a thing like this and am completely knocked down and out. Yours truly Meyer Wolfshiem

and then hasty addenda beneath:

> Let me know about the funeral etc do not know his family at all.

When the phone rang that afternoon and Long Distance said Chicago was calling I thought this would be Daisy at last. But the connection came through as a man's voice, very thin and far away.

“This is Slagle speaking…”

“Yes?” The name was unfamiliar.

“Hell of a note, isn't it? Get my wire?”

“There haven't been any wires.”

“Young Parke's in trouble,” he said rapidly. “They picked him up when he handed the bonds over the counter. They got a circular from New York giving 'em the numbers just five minutes before. What d'you know about that, hey? You never can tell in these hick towns—”

“Hello!” I interrupted breathlessly. “Look here—this isn't Mr. Gatsby. Mr. Gatsby's dead.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the wire, followed by an exclamation… then a quick squawk as the connection was broken.

I think it was on the third day that a telegram signed Henry C. Gatz arrived from a town in Minnesota. It said only that the sender was leaving immediately and to postpone the funeral until he came.

It was Gatsby's father, a solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed, bundled up in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day. His eyes leaked continuously with excitement, and when I took the bag and umbrella from his hands he began to pull so incessantly at his sparse grey beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat. He was on the point of collapse, so I took him into the music-room and made him sit down while I sent for something to eat. But he wouldn't eat, and the glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand.

“I saw it in the Chicago newspaper,” he said. “It was all in the Chicago newspaper. I started right away.”

“I didn't know how to reach you.”

His eyes, seeing nothing, moved ceaselessly about the room.

“It was a madman,” he said. “He must have been mad.”

“Wouldn't you like some coffee?” I urged him.

“I don't want anything. I'm all right now, Mr.—”

“Carraway.”

“Well, I'm all right now. Where have they got Jimmy?”

I took him into the drawing-room, where his son lay, and left him there. Some little boys had come up on the steps and were looking into the hall; when I told them who had arrived, they went reluctantly away.

After a little while Mr. Gatz opened the door and came out, his mouth ajar, his face flushed slightly, his eyes leaking isolated and unpunctual tears. He had reached an age where death no longer has the quality of ghastly surprise, and when he looked around him now for the first time and saw the height and splendour of the hall and the great rooms opening out from it into other rooms, his grief began to be mixed with an awed pride. I helped him to a bedroom upstairs; while he took off his coat and vest I told him that all arrangements had been deferred until he came.

“I didn't know what you'd want, Mr. Gatsby—”

“Gatz is my name.”

“—Mr. Gatz. I thought you might want to take the body West.”

He shook his head.

“Jimmy always liked it better down East. He rose up to his position in the East. Were you a friend of my boy's, Mr.—?”

“We were close friends.”

“He had a big future before him, you know. He was only a young man, but he had a lot of brain power here.”

He touched his head impressively, and I nodded.

“If he'd of lived, he'd of been a great man. A man like James J. Hill. He'd of helped build up the country.”

“That's true,” I said, uncomfortably.

He fumbled at the embroidered coverlet, trying to take it from the bed, and lay down stiffly—was instantly asleep.

That night an obviously frightened person called up, and demanded to know who I was before he would give his name.

“This is Mr. Carraway,” I said.

“Oh!” He sounded relieved. “This is Klipspringer.”

I was relieved too, for that seemed to promise another friend at Gatsby's grave. I didn't want it to be in the papers and draw a sightseeing crowd, so I'd been calling up a few people myself. They were hard to find.

“The funeral's tomorrow,” I said. “Three o'clock, here at the house. I wish you'd tell anybody who'd be interested.”

“Oh, I will,” he broke out hastily. “Of course I'm not likely to see anybody, but if I do.”

His tone made me suspicious.

“Of course you'll be there yourself.”

“Well, I'll certainly try. What I called up about is—”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “How about saying you'll come?”

“Well, the fact is—the truth of the matter is that I'm staying with some people up here in Greenwich, and they rather expect me to be with them tomorrow. In fact, there's a sort of picnic or something. Of course I'll do my best to get away.”

I ejaculated an unrestrained “Huh!” and he must have heard me, for he went on nervously:

“What I called up about was a pair of shoes I left there. I wonder if it'd be too much trouble to have the butler send them on. You see, they're tennis shoes, and I'm sort of helpless without them. My address is care of B. F.—”

I didn't hear the rest of the name, because I hung up the receiver.

After that I felt a certain shame for Gatsby—one gentleman to whom I telephoned implied that he had got what he deserved. However, that was my fault, for he was one of those who used to sneer most bitterly at Gatsby on the courage of Gatsby's liquor, and I should have known better than to call him.

The morning of the funeral I went up to New York to see Meyer Wolfshiem; I couldn't seem to reach him any other way. The door that I pushed open, on the advice of an elevator boy, was marked “The Swastika Holding Company,” and at first there didn't seem to be anyone inside. But when I'd shouted “hello” several times in vain, an argument broke out behind a partition, and presently a lovely Jewess appeared at an interior door and scrutinized me with black hostile eyes.

“Nobody's in,” she said. “Mr. Wolfshiem's gone to Chicago.”

The first part of this was obviously untrue, for someone had begun to whistle “The Rosary,” tunelessly, inside.

“Please say that Mr. Carraway wants to see him.”

“I can't get him back from Chicago, can I?”

At this moment a voice, unmistakably Wolfshiem's, called “Stella!” from the other side of the door.

“Leave your name on the desk,” she said quickly. “I'll give it to him when he gets back.”

“But I know he's there.”

Chapter 9 Part 1 Kapitel 9 Teil 1 Capítulo 9, primera parte Capitolo 9 Parte 1 第9章 前編 Rozdział 9 Część 1 Capítulo 9 Parte 1 Bölüm 9 Kısım 1 第 9 部分 1

After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and the next day, only as an endless drill of police and photographers and newspaper men in and out of Gatsby's front door. Dopo due anni ricordo il resto di quel giorno, e di quella notte e del giorno successivo, solo come un'interminabile esercitazione di polizia, fotografi e giornalisti che entravano e uscivano dalla porta di casa di Gatsby. A rope stretched across the main gate and a policeman by it kept out the curious, but little boys soon discovered that they could enter through my yard, and there were always a few of them clustered open-mouthed about the pool. Una corda tesa sul cancello principale e un poliziotto al suo fianco tenevano lontani i curiosi, ma i ragazzini scoprirono presto che potevano entrare dal mio cortile e ce n'erano sempre alcuni a bocca aperta intorno alla piscina. Someone with a positive manner, perhaps a detective, used the expression “madman” as he bent over Wilson's body that afternoon, and the adventitious authority of his voice set the key for the newspaper reports next morning. Qualcuno dai modi positivi, forse un detective, usò l'espressione "pazzo" mentre si chinava sul corpo di Wilson quel pomeriggio, e l'autorità avventizia della sua voce stabilì la chiave per i resoconti dei giornali del mattino successivo.

Most of those reports were a nightmare—grotesque, circumstantial, eager, and untrue. La maggior parte di questi rapporti erano un incubo-grottesco, circostanziati, ansiosi e non veritieri. When Michaelis's testimony at the inquest brought to light Wilson's suspicions of his wife I thought the whole tale would shortly be served up in racy pasquinade—but Catherine, who might have said anything, didn't say a word. Quando la testimonianza di Michaelis all'inchiesta portò alla luce i sospetti di Wilson nei confronti della moglie, pensai che l'intera storia sarebbe stata servita a breve in un'appassionante pasquinata, ma Catherine, che avrebbe potuto dire qualcosa, non disse una parola. She showed a surprising amount of character about it too—looked at the coroner with determined eyes under that corrected brow of hers, and swore that her sister had never seen Gatsby, that her sister was completely happy with her husband, that her sister had been into no mischief whatever. Anche in questo caso mostrò una sorprendente dose di carattere: guardò il medico legale con occhi decisi sotto quella sua fronte corretta e giurò che sua sorella non aveva mai visto Gatsby, che sua sorella era completamente felice con suo marito, che sua sorella non aveva commesso alcun tipo di reato. She convinced herself of it, and cried into her handkerchief, as if the very suggestion was more than she could endure. Se ne convinse e si mise a piangere nel fazzoletto, come se la sola suggestione fosse più di quanto potesse sopportare. So Wilson was reduced to a man “deranged by grief” in order that the case might remain in its simplest form. Wilson fu quindi ridotto a un uomo "squilibrato dal dolore" affinché il caso rimanesse nella sua forma più semplice. And it rested there. E si è riposato lì.

But all this part of it seemed remote and unessential. Ma tutta questa parte sembrava remota e inessenziale. I found myself on Gatsby's side, and alone. Mi ritrovai dalla parte di Gatsby, e da solo. From the moment I telephoned news of the catastrophe to West Egg village, every surmise about him, and every practical question, was referred to me. Dal momento in cui ho comunicato per telefono la notizia della catastrofe al villaggio di West Egg, ogni ipotesi su di lui e ogni questione pratica è stata riferita a me. At first I was surprised and confused; then, as he lay in his house and didn't move or breathe or speak, hour upon hour, it grew upon me that I was responsible, because no one else was interested—interested, I mean, with that intense personal interest to which everyone has some vague right at the end. All'inizio rimasi sorpreso e confuso; poi, mentre giaceva nella sua casa e non si muoveva, non respirava e non parlava, ora dopo ora, mi resi conto che ero io il responsabile, perché nessun altro era interessato - interessato, intendo, con quell'intenso interesse personale a cui tutti hanno un vago diritto alla fine.

I called up Daisy half an hour after we found him, called her instinctively and without hesitation. Ho chiamato Daisy mezz'ora dopo averlo trovato, l'ho chiamata istintivamente e senza esitazione. But she and Tom had gone away early that afternoon, and taken baggage with them.

“Left no address?” "Non ha lasciato un indirizzo?".

“No.”

“Say when they'd be back?”

“No.”

“Any idea where they are? How I could reach them?”

“I don't know. Can't say.”

I wanted to get somebody for him. Volevo trovare qualcuno per lui. I wanted to go into the room where he lay and reassure him: “I'll get somebody for you, Gatsby. Volevo andare nella stanza dove giaceva e rassicurarlo: "Troverò qualcuno per te, Gatsby. Don't worry. Just trust me and I'll get somebody for you—”

Meyer Wolfshiem's name wasn't in the phone book. The butler gave me his office address on Broadway, and I called Information, but by the time I had the number it was long after five, and no one answered the phone. Il maggiordomo mi diede l'indirizzo del suo ufficio sulla Broadway e io chiamai l'ufficio informazioni, ma quando ebbi il numero erano già passate da un pezzo le cinque e non rispose nessuno.

“Will you ring again?”

“I've rung three times.”

“It's very important.”

“Sorry. I'm afraid no one's there.”

I went back to the drawing-room and thought for an instant that they were chance visitors, all these official people who suddenly filled it. Tornai in salotto e pensai per un istante che si trattasse di visitatori occasionali, tutte queste persone ufficiali che improvvisamente lo riempivano. But, though they drew back the sheet and looked at Gatsby with shocked eyes, his protest continued in my brain: Ma, sebbene ritirassero il lenzuolo e guardassero Gatsby con occhi scioccati, la sua protesta continuava nel mio cervello:

“Look here, old sport, you've got to get somebody for me. "Senti, vecchio mio, devi trovare qualcuno per me. You've got to try hard. Bisogna impegnarsi a fondo. I can't go through this alone.” Non posso affrontare tutto questo da sola".

Someone started to ask me questions, but I broke away and going upstairs looked hastily through the unlocked parts of his desk—he'd never told me definitely that his parents were dead. Qualcuno cominciò a farmi domande, ma io mi staccai e salendo al piano di sopra guardai frettolosamente tra le parti non chiuse della sua scrivania: non mi aveva mai detto con certezza che i suoi genitori erano morti. But there was nothing—only the picture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence, staring down from the wall. Ma non c'era nulla, solo la foto di Dan Cody, un segno di violenza dimenticata, che fissava la parete.

Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfshiem, which asked for information and urged him to come out on the next train. That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it. I was sure he'd start when he saw the newspapers, just as I was sure there'd be a wire from Daisy before noon—but neither a wire nor Mr. Wolfshiem arrived; no one arrived except more police and photographers and newspaper men. Ero sicuro che sarebbe partito quando avrebbe visto i giornali, così come ero sicuro che ci sarebbe stato un telegramma da Daisy prima di mezzogiorno, ma non arrivarono né il telegramma né il signor Wolfshiem; non arrivò nessuno, se non altri poliziotti, fotografi e uomini dei giornali. When the butler brought back Wolfshiem's answer I began to have a feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me against them all. Quando il maggiordomo riportò la risposta di Wolfshiem, cominciai a provare un sentimento di sfida, di sprezzante solidarietà tra me e Gatsby contro tutti loro.

> Dear Mr. Carraway. This has been one of the most terrible shocks of my life to me I hardly can believe it that it is true at all. Questo è stato uno dei più terribili shock della mia vita e stento a credere che sia vero. Such a mad act as that man did should make us all think. Un atto così folle come quello di quell'uomo dovrebbe far riflettere tutti noi. I cannot come down now as I am tied up in some very important business and cannot get mixed up in this thing now. Non posso scendere adesso perché sono impegnato in affari molto importanti e non posso immischiarmi in questa faccenda. If there is anything I can do a little later let me know in a letter by Edgar. I hardly know where I am when I hear about a thing like this and am completely knocked down and out. Yours truly Meyer Wolfshiem Non so quasi dove mi trovo quando sento una cosa del genere e sono completamente abbattuto. Cordiali saluti Meyer Wolfshiem

and then hasty addenda beneath: e poi frettolosi addendum sotto:

> Let me know about the funeral etc do not know his family at all.

When the phone rang that afternoon and Long Distance said Chicago was calling I thought this would be Daisy at last. But the connection came through as a man's voice, very thin and far away. Ma il collegamento è avvenuto con una voce maschile, molto sottile e lontana.

“This is Slagle speaking…” "Qui è Slagle che parla...".

“Yes?” The name was unfamiliar.

“Hell of a note, isn't it? "Un bel biglietto, vero? Get my wire?”

“There haven't been any wires.”

“Young Parke's in trouble,” he said rapidly. "Il giovane Parke è nei guai", disse rapidamente. “They picked him up when he handed the bonds over the counter. "L'hanno preso quando ha consegnato i titoli allo sportello. They got a circular from New York giving 'em the numbers just five minutes before. Hanno ricevuto una circolare da New York con i numeri appena cinque minuti prima. What d'you know about that, hey? Cosa ne sai tu, eh? You never can tell in these hick towns—” Non si può mai dire in queste città di campagna...".

“Hello!” I interrupted breathlessly. "Ciao!" Lo interruppi senza fiatare. “Look here—this isn't Mr. Gatsby. Mr. Gatsby's dead.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the wire, followed by an exclamation… then a quick squawk as the connection was broken. Ci fu un lungo silenzio all'altro capo del filo, seguito da un'esclamazione... e da un rapido squittio quando il collegamento fu interrotto.

I think it was on the third day that a telegram signed Henry C. Gatz arrived from a town in Minnesota. Credo che il terzo giorno sia arrivato un telegramma firmato Henry C. Gatz da una città del Minnesota. It said only that the sender was leaving immediately and to postpone the funeral until he came. Diceva solo che il mittente sarebbe partito immediatamente e di rimandare il funerale fino al suo arrivo.

It was Gatsby's father, a solemn old man, very helpless and dismayed, bundled up in a long cheap ulster against the warm September day. Era il padre di Gatsby, un vecchio solenne, molto indifeso e sgomento, infagottato in un lungo ulster da quattro soldi contro la calda giornata di settembre. His eyes leaked continuously with excitement, and when I took the bag and umbrella from his hands he began to pull so incessantly at his sparse grey beard that I had difficulty in getting off his coat. I suoi occhi trapelavano continuamente dall'eccitazione, e quando gli tolsi dalle mani la borsa e l'ombrello cominciò a tirare incessantemente la sua rada barba grigia, tanto che ebbi difficoltà a togliergli il cappotto. He was on the point of collapse, so I took him into the music-room and made him sit down while I sent for something to eat. Era sul punto di crollare, così lo portai nella sala della musica e lo feci sedere mentre gli facevo trovare qualcosa da mangiare. But he wouldn't eat, and the glass of milk spilled from his trembling hand. Ma non mangiava, e il bicchiere di latte si rovesciava dalla sua mano tremante.

“I saw it in the Chicago newspaper,” he said. “It was all in the Chicago newspaper. I started right away.”

“I didn't know how to reach you.”

His eyes, seeing nothing, moved ceaselessly about the room. I suoi occhi, non vedendo nulla, si muovevano incessantemente per la stanza.

“It was a madman,” he said. "È stato un pazzo", ha detto. “He must have been mad.” "Doveva essere pazzo".

“Wouldn't you like some coffee?” I urged him. "Non ti andrebbe un caffè?". Lo esortai.

“I don't want anything. I'm all right now, Mr.—”

“Carraway.”

“Well, I'm all right now. Where have they got Jimmy?” Dove hanno portato Jimmy?".

I took him into the drawing-room, where his son lay, and left him there. Some little boys had come up on the steps and were looking into the hall; when I told them who had arrived, they went reluctantly away.

After a little while Mr. Gatz opened the door and came out, his mouth ajar, his face flushed slightly, his eyes leaking isolated and unpunctual tears. Dopo un po' il signor Gatz aprì la porta e uscì, con la bocca socchiusa, il viso leggermente arrossato, gli occhi che perdevano lacrime isolate e poco frequenti. He had reached an age where death no longer has the quality of ghastly surprise, and when he looked around him now for the first time and saw the height and splendour of the hall and the great rooms opening out from it into other rooms, his grief began to be mixed with an awed pride. Aveva raggiunto un'età in cui la morte non ha più la qualità di una sorpresa spettrale, e quando si guardò intorno per la prima volta e vide l'altezza e lo splendore della sala e le grandi stanze che si aprivano da essa in altri ambienti, il suo dolore cominciò a mescolarsi con un orgoglio stupefatto. I helped him to a bedroom upstairs; while he took off his coat and vest I told him that all arrangements had been deferred until he came. Lo aiutai a raggiungere una camera al piano superiore; mentre si toglieva il cappotto e il giubbotto gli dissi che tutti i preparativi erano stati rimandati al suo arrivo.

“I didn't know what you'd want, Mr. Gatsby—” "Non sapevo cosa volesse, signor Gatsby...".

“Gatz is my name.”

“—Mr. Gatz. I thought you might want to take the body West.” Ho pensato che volesse portare il corpo a ovest".

He shook his head.

“Jimmy always liked it better down East. "A Jimmy è sempre piaciuto di più l'Est. He rose up to his position in the East. Ha raggiunto la sua posizione in Oriente. Were you a friend of my boy's, Mr.—?”

“We were close friends.”

“He had a big future before him, you know. "Aveva un grande futuro davanti a sé, sapete. He was only a young man, but he had a lot of brain power here.” Era solo un giovane uomo, ma aveva un sacco di cervello".

He touched his head impressively, and I nodded. Si è toccato la testa in modo impressionante e io ho annuito.

“If he'd of lived, he'd of been a great man. "Se fosse vissuto, sarebbe stato un grande uomo. A man like James J. Hill. He'd of helped build up the country.” Avrebbe contribuito a costruire il Paese".

“That's true,” I said, uncomfortably. "È vero", dissi, a disagio.

He fumbled at the embroidered coverlet, trying to take it from the bed, and lay down stiffly—was instantly asleep. Si è avvicinato al copriletto ricamato, cercando di toglierlo dal letto, e si è sdraiato rigidamente: si è addormentato all'istante.

That night an obviously frightened person called up, and demanded to know who I was before he would give his name. Quella sera chiamò una persona evidentemente spaventata, che pretese di sapere chi fossi prima di dire il suo nome.

“This is Mr. Carraway,” I said.

“Oh!” He sounded relieved. "Oh!" Sembrava sollevato. “This is Klipspringer.” "Questo è Klipspringer".

I was relieved too, for that seemed to promise another friend at Gatsby's grave. Anch'io ero sollevato, perché questo sembrava promettere un altro amico sulla tomba di Gatsby. I didn't want it to be in the papers and draw a sightseeing crowd, so I'd been calling up a few people myself. Non volevo che finisse sui giornali e che attirasse una folla di turisti, quindi ho chiamato io stesso alcune persone. They were hard to find.

“The funeral's tomorrow,” I said. “Three o'clock, here at the house. I wish you'd tell anybody who'd be interested.” Vorrei che lo dicesse a chiunque sia interessato".

“Oh, I will,” he broke out hastily. "Oh, lo farò", si affrettò a dire. “Of course I'm not likely to see anybody, but if I do.” "Ovviamente non è probabile che veda qualcuno, ma se lo vedrò...".

His tone made me suspicious. Il suo tono mi ha insospettito.

“Of course you'll be there yourself.” "Certo che ci sarai anche tu".

“Well, I'll certainly try. "Beh, ci proverò sicuramente. What I called up about is—” Quello per cui ho chiamato è...".

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. "Aspetta un attimo", interruppi. “How about saying you'll come?” "Che ne dici di dire che verrai?".

“Well, the fact is—the truth of the matter is that I'm staying with some people up here in Greenwich, and they rather expect me to be with them tomorrow. "Beh, il fatto è che la verità è che sto da alcune persone qui a Greenwich e si aspettano che io sia con loro domani. In fact, there's a sort of picnic or something. Of course I'll do my best to get away.” Naturalmente farò del mio meglio per andarmene".

I ejaculated an unrestrained “Huh!” and he must have heard me, for he went on nervously: Eiaculai un irrefrenabile "Eh!" e lui dovette sentirmi, perché continuò nervosamente:

“What I called up about was a pair of shoes I left there. "Ho chiamato per un paio di scarpe che avevo lasciato lì. I wonder if it'd be too much trouble to have the butler send them on. Mi chiedo se sia troppo complicato farli mandare dal maggiordomo. You see, they're tennis shoes, and I'm sort of helpless without them. Vedete, sono scarpe da tennis e senza di esse sono un po' indifesa. My address is care of B. F.—” Il mio indirizzo è a cura di B. F.".

I didn't hear the rest of the name, because I hung up the receiver.

After that I felt a certain shame for Gatsby—one gentleman to whom I telephoned implied that he had got what he deserved. Dopo di che provai una certa vergogna per Gatsby: un signore a cui telefonai mi disse che aveva avuto ciò che si meritava. However, that was my fault, for he was one of those who used to sneer most bitterly at Gatsby on the courage of Gatsby's liquor, and I should have known better than to call him. Tuttavia, è stata colpa mia, perché lui era uno di quelli che era solito sogghignare aspramente contro Gatsby per il coraggio dell'alcol di Gatsby, e avrei dovuto sapere che non era il caso di chiamarlo.

The morning of the funeral I went up to New York to see Meyer Wolfshiem; I couldn't seem to reach him any other way. La mattina del funerale andai a New York per vedere Meyer Wolfshiem; non riuscivo a contattarlo in nessun altro modo. The door that I pushed open, on the advice of an elevator boy, was marked “The Swastika Holding Company,” and at first there didn't seem to be anyone inside. La porta che ho aperto, su consiglio di un ascensorista, recava la scritta "The Swastika Holding Company" e all'inizio non sembrava esserci nessuno all'interno. But when I'd shouted “hello” several times in vain, an argument broke out behind a partition, and presently a lovely Jewess appeared at an interior door and scrutinized me with black hostile eyes. Ma quando ho gridato più volte "ciao" invano, è scoppiata una discussione dietro una parete divisoria, e subito una bella ebrea è apparsa da una porta interna e mi ha scrutato con occhi neri e ostili.

“Nobody's in,” she said. “Mr. Wolfshiem's gone to Chicago.”

The first part of this was obviously untrue, for someone had begun to whistle “The Rosary,” tunelessly, inside. La prima parte di questa affermazione era ovviamente falsa, perché qualcuno aveva iniziato a fischiettare "Il rosario", senza motivo, all'interno.

“Please say that Mr. Carraway wants to see him.”

“I can't get him back from Chicago, can I?” "Non posso farlo tornare da Chicago, vero?".

At this moment a voice, unmistakably Wolfshiem's, called “Stella!” from the other side of the door. In quel momento una voce, inconfondibilmente di Wolfshiem, chiamò "Stella!" dall'altra parte della porta.

“Leave your name on the desk,” she said quickly. “I'll give it to him when he gets back.”

“But I know he's there.”