There were the same people, or at least the same sort of people, the same profusion of champagne, the same many-coloured, many-keyed commotion, but I felt an unpleasantness in the air, a pervading harshness that hadnt been there before. Or perhaps I had merely grown used to it, grown to accept West Egg as a world complete in itself, with its own standards and its own great figures, second to nothing because it had no consciousness of being so, and now I was looking at it again, through Daisys eyes. It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment.
They arrived at twilight, and, as we strolled out among the sparkling hundreds, Daisys voice was playing murmurous tricks in her throat.
These things excite me so, she whispered. If you want to kiss me any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and Ill be glad to arrange it for you. Just mention my name. Or present a green card. Im giving out green
Look around, suggested Gatsby.
Im looking around. Im having a marvelous
You must see the faces of many people youve heard about.
Toms arrogant eyes roamed the crowd.
We dont go around very much, he said; in fact, I was just thinking I dont know a soul here.
Perhaps you know that lady, Gatsby indicated a gorgeous, scarcely human orchid of a woman who sat in state under a white-plum tree. Tom and Daisy stared, with that peculiarly unreal feeling that accompanies the recognition of a hitherto ghostly celebrity of the movies.
Shes lovely, said Daisy.
The man bending over her is her director.
He took them ceremoniously from group to group:
Mrs. Buchanan and Mr. Buchanan After an instants hesitation he added: the polo player.
Oh no, objected Tom quickly, not me.
But evidently the sound of it pleased Gatsby for Tom remained the polo player for the rest of the evening.
Ive never met so many celebrities, Daisy exclaimed, I liked that man what was his name? with the sort of blue nose.
Gatsby identified him, adding that he was a small producer.
Well, I liked him anyhow.
Id a little rather not be the polo player, said Tom pleasantly, Id rather look at all these famous people in in oblivion.
Daisy and Gatsby danced. I remember being surprised by his graceful, conservative fox-trot I had never seen him dance before. Then they sauntered over to my house and sat on the steps for half an hour, while at her request I remained watchfully in the garden. In case theres a fire or a flood, she explained, or any act of God.
Tom appeared from his oblivion as we were sitting down to supper together. Do you mind if I eat with some people over here? he said. A fellows getting off some funny stuff.
Go ahead, answered Daisy genially, and if you want to take down any addresses heres my little gold-pencil. She looked around after a moment and told me the girl was common but pretty, and I knew that except for the half-hour shed been alone with Gatsby she wasnt having a good time.
We were at a particularly tipsy table. That was my fault Gatsby had been called to the phone, and Id enjoyed these same people only two weeks before. But what had amused me then turned septic on the air now.
How do you feel, Miss Baedeker?
The girl addressed was trying, unsuccessfully, to slump against my shoulder. At this inquiry she sat up and opened her eyes.
Wha?
A massive and lethargic woman, who had been urging Daisy to play golf with her at the local club tomorrow, spoke in Miss Baedekers defence:
Oh, shes all right now. When shes had five or six cocktails she always starts screaming like that. I tell her she ought to leave it alone.
I do leave it alone, affirmed the accused hollowly.
We heard you yelling, so I said to Doc Civet here: Theres somebody that needs your help, Doc.
Shes much obliged, Im sure, said another friend, without gratitude, but you got her dress all wet when you stuck her head in the pool.
Anything I hate is to get my head stuck in a pool, mumbled Miss Baedeker. They almost drowned me once over in New Jersey.
Then you ought to leave it alone, countered Doctor Civet.
Speak for yourself! cried Miss Baedeker violently. Your hand shakes. I wouldnt let you operate on me!
It was like that. Almost the last thing I remember was standing with Daisy and watching the moving-picture director and his Star. They were still under the white-plum tree and their faces were touching except for a pale, thin ray of moonlight between. It occurred to me that he had been very slowly bending toward her all evening to attain this proximity, and even while I watched I saw him stoop one ultimate degree and kiss at her cheek.
I like her, said Daisy, I think shes lovely.
But the rest offended her and inarguably, because it wasnt a gesture but an emotion. She was appalled by West Egg, this unprecedented place that Broadway had begotten upon a Long Island fishing village appalled by its raw vigour that chafed under the old euphemisms and by the too obtrusive fate that horded its inhabitants along a short-cut from nothing to nothing. She saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed to understand.