And it was from Cody that he inherited money a legacy of twenty-five thousand dollars. He didnt get it. He never understood the legal device that was used against him, but what remained of the millions went intact to Ella Kaye. He was left with his singularly appropriate education; the vague contour of Jay Gatsby had filled out to the substantiality of a man.
* * *He told me all this very much later, but Ive put it down here with the idea of exploding those first wild rumours about his antecedents, which werent even faintly true. Moreover he told it to me at a time of confusion, when I had reached the point of believing everything and nothing about him. So I take advantage of this short halt, while Gatsby, so to speak, caught his breath, to clear this set of misconceptions away.
It was a halt, too, in my association with his affairs. For several weeks I didnt see him or hear his voice on the phone mostly I was in New York, trotting around with Jordan and trying to ingratiate myself with her senile aunt but finally I went over to his house one Sunday afternoon. I hadnt been there two minutes when somebody brought Tom Buchanan in for a drink. I was startled, naturally, but the really surprising thing was that it hadnt happened before.
They were a party of three on horseback Tom and a man named Sloane and a pretty woman in a brown riding-habit, who had been there previously.
* * *Im delighted to see you, said Gatsby, standing on his porch. Im delighted that you dropped in.
As though they cared!
Sit right down. Have a cigarette or a cigar. He walked around the room quickly, ringing bells. Ill have something to drink for you in just a minute.
He was profoundly affected by the fact that Tom was there. But he would be uneasy anyhow until he had given them something, realizing in a vague way that that was all they came for. Mr. Sloane wanted nothing. A lemonade? No, thanks. A little champagne? Nothing at all, thanks Im sorry
Did you have a nice ride?
Very good roads around here.
I suppose the automobiles
Yeah.
Moved by an irresistible impulse, Gatsby turned to Tom, who had accepted the introduction as a stranger.
I believe weve met somewhere before, Mr. Buchanan.
Oh, yes, said Tom, gruffly polite, but obviously not remembering. So we did. I remember very well.
About two weeks ago.
Thats right. You were with Nick here.
I know your wife, continued Gatsby, almost aggressively.
That so?
Tom turned to me.
You live near here, Nick?
Next door.
That so?
Mr. Sloane didnt enter into the conversation, but lounged back haughtily in his chair; the woman said nothing either until unexpectedly, after two highballs, she became cordial.
Well all come over to your next party, Mr. Gatsby, she suggested. What do you say?
Certainly; Id be delighted to have you.
Be ver nice, said Mr. Sloane, without gratitude. Well think ought to be starting home.
Please dont hurry, Gatsby urged them. He had control of himself now, and he wanted to see more of Tom. Why dont you why dont you stay for supper? I wouldnt be surprised if some other people dropped in from New York.
You come to supper with me, said the lady enthusiastically. Both of you.
This included me. Mr. Sloane got to his feet.
Come along, he said but to her only.
I mean it, she insisted. Id love to have you. Lots of room.
Gatsby looked at me questioningly. He wanted to go, and he didnt see that Mr. Sloane had determined he shouldnt.
Im afraid I wont be able to, I said.
Well, you come, she urged, concentrating on Gatsby.
Mr. Sloane murmured something close to her ear.
We wont be late if we start now, she insisted aloud.
I havent got a horse, said Gatsby. I used to ride in the army, but Ive never bought a horse. Ill have to follow you in my car. Excuse me for just a minute.
Im afraid I wont be able to, I said.
Well, you come, she urged, concentrating on Gatsby.
Mr. Sloane murmured something close to her ear.
We wont be late if we start now, she insisted aloud.
I havent got a horse, said Gatsby. I used to ride in the army, but Ive never bought a horse. Ill have to follow you in my car. Excuse me for just a minute.
The rest of us walked out on the porch, where Sloane and the lady began an impassioned conversation aside.
My God, I believe the mans coming, said Tom. Doesnt he know she doesnt want him?
She says she does want him.
She has a big dinner party and he wont know a soul there, he frowned. I wonder where in the devil he met Daisy. By God, I may be old-fashioned in my ideas, but women run around too much these days to suit me. They meet all kinds of crazy fish.
Suddenly Mr. Sloane and the lady walked down the steps and mounted their horses.
Come on, said Mr. Sloane to Tom, were late. Weve got to go. And then to me: Tell him we couldnt wait, will you?
Tom and I shook hands, the rest of us exchanged a cool nod, and they trotted quickly down the drive, disappearing under the August foliage just as Gatsby, with hat and light overcoat in hand, came out the front door.
Tom was evidently perturbed at Daisys running around alone, for on the following Saturday night he came with her to Gatsbys party. Perhaps his presence gave the evening its peculiar quality of oppressiveness it stands out in my memory from Gatsbys other parties that summer.