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The Great Gatsby | Progressive Translation Books for Danish A1-B2 Learners

The Great Gatsby | Progressive Translation Books for Danish A1-B2 Learners

Experience the benefits of this forward-thinking translation strategy that tailors language learning to your specific needs. You have control over the difficulty, which ensures that the content is neither too easy nor overly challenging. This method enhances your ability to understand new words through context, reducing reliance on direct translations. While the translations are subtly obscured to foster learning, you can still look up unclear terms. This balanced approach makes language acquisition smoother and more enjoyable. Delve into these translated literary works and discover the satisfaction of mastering a language through reading.

I
Inmyyounger
og
andmorevulnerableyearsmy
far
fathergavemesomeadvicethatI’vebeenturningoverinmy
sind
mindeversince.
“Wheneveryoufeellike
kritisere
criticizinganyone,”hetoldme,“justremember
at
thatallthepeoplein
denne
thisworldhaven’thadtheadvantages
at
thatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’t
sagde
sayanymore,butwe’ve
altid
alwaysbeenunusuallycommunicativein
en
areservedway,andI
forstod
understoodthathemeantagreatdeal
mere
morethanthat.
Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreserve
alle
alljudgements,ahabitthathasopenedupmanycuriousnaturestome
og
andalsomademethe
offer
victimofnotafew
veteran
veteranbores.
Theabnormalmindis
hurtig
quicktodetectandattachitselfto
denne
thisqualitywhenitappearsin
en
anormalperson,andsoit
kom
cameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustly
anklaget
accusedofbeingapolitician,
fordi
becauseIwasprivytothe
hemmelige
secretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.
De fleste
Mostoftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyI
har
havefeignedsleep,preoccupation,ora
fjendtlig
hostilelevitywhenIrealizedbysomeunmistakable
tegn
signthatanintimaterevelationwasquiveringon
de
thehorizon;
fortheintimaterevelationsof
unge
youngmen,oratleastthetermsinwhichtheyexpress
dem
them,areusuallyplagiaristicandmarredby
åbenlyse
obvioussuppressions.
Reservingjudgementsis
et
amatterofinfinitehope.
Iam
stadig
stillalittleafraidof
glip
missingsomethingifIforget
at
that,asmyfathersnobbishly
foreslog
suggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,
en
asenseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelled
ud
outunequallyatbirth.
And,
efter
afterboastingthiswayofmy
tolerance
tolerance,Icometotheadmissionthatithas
en
alimit.
Conductmaybefoundedonthe
hårde
hardrockorthewetmarshes,
men
butafteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfounded
på
on.
WhenIcamebackfromthe
Østen
EastlastautumnIfeltthatI
ville
wantedtheworldtobeinuniform
og
andatasortof
moralsk
moralattentionforever;
Iwanted
ikke
nomoreriotousexcursionswithprivilegedglimpsesinto
det
thehumanheart.
OnlyGatsby,the
manden
manwhogiveshisnameto
denne
thisbook,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,who
repræsenterede
representedeverythingforwhichI
har
haveanunaffectedscorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbroken
række
seriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewas
noget
somethinggorgeousabouthim,someheightened
følsomhed
sensitivitytothepromisesoflife,as
hvis
ifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthat
registrerer
registerearthquakestenthousandmiles
væk
away.
Thisresponsivenesshadnothingto
gøre
dowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignified
under
underthenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasan
ekstraordinær
extraordinarygiftforhope,a
romantisk
romanticreadinesssuchasI
har
haveneverfoundinany
anden
otherpersonandwhichitisnotlikelyIshallever
finde
findagain.
No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightattheend;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfoul
støv
dustfloatedinthewakeofhis
drømme
dreamsthattemporarilyclosedoutmy
interesse
interestintheabortivesorrows
og
andshort-windedelationsofmen.
My
familie
familyhavebeenprominent,well-to-do
mennesker
peopleinthisMiddleWestern
by
cityforthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysare
noget
somethingofaclan,andwe
har
haveatraditionthatwe’re
nedstammer
descendedfromtheDukesofBuccleuch,
men
buttheactualfounderofmy
linje
linewasmygrandfather’sbrother,who
kom
camehereinfifty-one,sent
en
asubstitutetotheCivilWar,
og
andstartedthewholesalehardware
forretning
businessthatmyfathercarriesontoday.
I
aldrig
neversawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedto
se
looklikehim—withspecialreferenceto
det
theratherhard-boiledpaintingthat
hænger
hangsinfather’soffice.
IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,just
et
aquarterofacentury
efter
aftermyfather,anda
lidt
littlelaterIparticipatedinthat
forsinkede
delayedTeutonicmigrationknownas
den
theGreatWar.
Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughly
at
thatIcamebackrestless.
Insteadofbeingthe
varme
warmcentreoftheworld,theMiddleWest
nu
nowseemedliketheragged
kant
edgeoftheuniverse—soI
besluttede
decidedtogoEastand
lære
learnthebondbusiness.
EverybodyI
kendte
knewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposedit
kunne
couldsupportonemoresingle
mand
man.
Allmyauntsanduncles
talte
talkeditoverasiftheywere
valgte
choosingaprepschoolforme,
og
andfinallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”with
meget
verygrave,hesitantfaces.
Father
indvilligede
agreedtofinancemefor
et
ayear,andaftervariousdelaysI
kom
cameEast,permanently,Ithought,inthe
foråret
springoftwenty-two.
Thepracticalthingwasto
finde
findroomsinthecity,
men
butitwasawarmseason,
og
andIhadjustlefta
land
countryofwidelawnsand
venlige
friendlytrees,sowhena
ung
youngmanattheoffice
foreslog
suggestedthatwetakea
hus
housetogetherinacommutingtown,it
lød
soundedlikeagreatidea.
He
fandt
foundthehouse,aweather-beaten
pap
cardboardbungalowateightyamonth,
men
butatthelastminutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,
og
andIwentouttothecountry
alene
alone.
Ihadadog—atleastI
havde
hadhimforafewdays
indtil
untilheranaway—andan
gammel
oldDodgeandaFinnish
kvinde
woman,whomademybed
og
andcookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnish
visdom
wisdomtoherselfoverthe
elektriske
electricstove.
Itwaslonelyfora
dag
dayorsountilone
morgen
morningsomeman,morerecentlyarrived
end
thanI,stoppedmeonthe
vejen
road.
“Howdoyougetto
West
WestEggvillage?”
heaskedhelplessly.
I
fortalt
toldhim.
AndasI
gik
walkedonIwaslonely
ikke
nolonger.
Iwasa
guide
guide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
He
havde
hadcasuallyconferredonmethefreedomofthe
nabolaget
neighbourhood.
Andsowiththesunshine
og
andthegreatburstsofleaves
vokser
growingonthetrees,justasthings
vokser
growinfastmovies,I
havde
hadthatfamiliarconvictionthatlifewas
begyndte
beginningoveragainwiththesummer.
Der
Therewassomuchto
læse
read,foronething,andso
meget
muchfinehealthtobe
trukket
pulleddownoutofthe
unge
youngbreath-givingair.
Ibought
et
adozenvolumesonbanking
og
andcreditandinvestmentsecurities,
og
andtheystoodonmy
hylde
shelfinredandgold
som
likenewmoneyfromthemint,
lovede
promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthatonlyMidas
og
andMorganandMaecenasknew.
Og
AndIhadthehigh
hensigt
intentionofreadingmanyotherbooksbesides.
Iwas
temmelig
ratherliteraryincollege—oneyearI
skrev
wroteaseriesofvery
højtidelige
solemnandobviouseditorialsfor
den
theYaleNews—andnowIwasgoingto
bringe
bringbackallsuchthingsintomy
liv
lifeandbecomeagainthat
mest
mostlimitedofallspecialists,
den
the“well-roundedman.”
Thisisn’t
bare
justanepigram—lifeismuch
mere
moresuccessfullylookedatfroma
enkelt
singlewindow,afterall.
Itwasamatterofchance
at
thatIshouldhaverenteda
hus
houseinoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
Itwasonthatslenderriotous
ø
islandwhichextendsitselfdue
øst
eastofNewYork—andwherethereare,
blandt
amongothernaturalcuriosities,two
usædvanlige
unusualformationsofland.
Twentymilesfrom
den
thecityapairofenormouseggs,
identiske
identicalincontourandseparatedonlybya
høflighed
courtesybay,jutoutinto
den
themostdomesticatedbodyofsaltwaterin
den
theWesternhemisphere,thegreat
våde
wetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.
Theyarenotperfectovals—likethe
ægget
eggintheColumbusstory,theyare
begge
bothcrushedflatatthecontactend—buttheir
fysiske
physicalresemblancemustbea
kilde
sourceofperpetualwondertothegulls
der
thatflyoverhead.
Tothewingless
et
amoreinterestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityin
alle
everyparticularexceptshapeand
størrelse
size.
IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,the
mindre
lessfashionableofthetwo,
selv
thoughthisisamost
overfladisk
superficialtagtoexpressthe
bizarre
bizarreandnotalittlesinister
kontrast
contrastbetweenthem.
Myhousewasatthevery
spidsen
tipoftheegg,onlyfiftyyardsfromtheSound,
og
andsqueezedbetweentwohugeplaces
der
thatrentedfortwelveorfifteen
tusind
thousandaseason.
Theoneonmy
højre
rightwasacolossalaffairby
enhver
anystandard—itwasafactual
efterligning
imitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,
med
withatowerononeside,spanking
ny
newunderathinbeardof
rå
rawivy,andamarbleswimmingpool,
og
andmorethanfortyacresof
græsplæne
lawnandgarden.
ItwasGatsby’s
palæ
mansion.
Or,rather,asIdidn’t
kendte
knowMr.Gatsby,itwasa
palæ
mansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthat
navn
name.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,
men
butitwasasmalleyesore,
og
andithadbeenoverlooked,soI
havde
hadaviewofthe
vandet
water,apartialviewofmyneighbour’s
græsplæne
lawn,andtheconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.
Acrossthecourtesy
bay
baythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglittered
langs
alongthewater,andthe
historie
historyofthesummerreally
begynder
beginsontheeveningI
kørte
droveovertheretohave
middag
dinnerwiththeTomBuchanans.
Daisy
Daisywasmysecondcousinonce
fjernet
removed,andI’dknownTomin
college
college.
AndjustafterthewarI
tilbragte
spenttwodayswiththeminChicago.
Her
mand
husband,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,
havde
hadbeenoneofthe
mest
mostpowerfulendsthatever
spillede
playedfootballatNewHaven—a
national
nationalfigureinaway,oneofthosemenwho
når
reachsuchanacutelimited
ekspertise
excellenceattwenty-onethateverythingafterwardsavoursofanticlimax.
His
familie
familywereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehis
frihed
freedomwithmoneywasa
spørgsmål
matterforreproach—butnowhe’d
forladt
leftChicagoandcomeEastina
måde
fashionthatrathertookyourbreath
væk
away:
forinstance,he’dbroughtdown
en
astringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.
Itwas
svært
hardtorealizethata
mand
maninmyowngenerationwaswealthy
nok
enoughtodothat.
Whythey
kom
cameEastIdon’tknow.
They
havde
hadspentayearinFranceforno
særlig
particularreason,andthendrifted
her
hereandthereunrestfullywherever
folk
peopleplayedpoloandwere
rige
richtogether.
Thiswasa
permanent
permanentmove,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,
men
butIdidn’tbelieveit—Ihad
ikke
nosightintoDaisy’sheart,
men
butIfeltthatTom
ville
woulddriftonforeverseeking,a
lidt
littlewistfully,forthedramatic
turbulens
turbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.
Og
Andsoithappenedthaton
en
awarmwindyeveningI
kørte
droveovertoEastEggto
se
seetwooldfriendswhomI
næppe
scarcelyknewatall.
Their
hus
housewasevenmoreelaborate
end
thanIexpected,acheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgian
Kolonialt
Colonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
Thelawn
startede
startedatthebeachand
løb
rantowardsthefrontdoorfor
en
aquarterofamile,
hopper
jumpingoversundialsandbrickwalks
og
andburninggardens—finallywhenit
nåede
reachedthehousedriftingupthesidein
lyse
brightvinesasthoughfromthe
momentum
momentumofitsrun.
The
forsiden
frontwasbrokenbyalineofFrenchwindows,glowing
nu
nowwithreflectedgoldand
bredt
wideopentothewarm
blæsende
windyafternoon,andTomBuchananinriding
tøj
clotheswasstandingwithhislegsaparton
den
thefrontporch.
Hehadchanged
siden
sincehisNewHavenyears.
Nu
Nowhewasasturdystraw-haired
mand
manofthirty,witha
temmelig
ratherhardmouthandasupercilious
måde
manner.
Twoshiningarroganteyes
havde
hadestablisheddominanceoverhis
ansigt
faceandgavehimtheappearanceof
altid
alwaysleaningaggressivelyforward.
Not
engang
eventheeffeminateswankofhisriding
tøj
clothescouldhidetheenormous
kraft
powerofthatbody—heseemedto
fylde
fillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhe
anstrengt
strainedthetoplacing,andyou
kunne
couldseeagreatpackof
muskler
muscleshiftingwhenhisshoulder
bevægede
movedunderhisthincoat.
Itwas
en
abodycapableofenormousleverage—a
grusom
cruelbody.
Hisspeakingvoice,
en
agruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.
Therewas
en
atouchofpaternalcontemptin
det
it,eventowardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHavenwho
havde
hadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’tthinkmyopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedto
sige
say,“justbecauseI’mstronger
og
andmoreofaman
end
thanyouare.”
Wewereinthe
samme
sameseniorsociety,andwhilewewere
aldrig
neverintimateIalwayshadthe
indtryk
impressionthatheapprovedofme
og
andwantedmetolikehim
med
withsomeharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhis
egen
own.
Wetalkedfora
par
fewminutesonthesunny
veranda
porch.
“I’vegotanice
sted
placehere,”hesaid,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningmearoundbyone
arm
arm,hemovedabroad
flad
flathandalongthefrontvista,includinginitssweepasunkenItalian
have
garden,ahalfacreof
dybe
deep,pungentroses,andasnub-nosedmotorboat
der
thatbumpedthetideoffshore.
“It
tilhørte
belongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
Heturnedmearound
igen
again,politelyandabruptly.
“We’ll
går
goinside.”
Wewalkedthrougha
høj
highhallwayintoabrightrosy-colouredspace,fragilely
bundet
boundintothehousebyFrenchwindowsateitherend.
Det
Thewindowswereajarandgleamingwhite
mod
againstthefreshgrassoutsidethatseemedto
vokse
growalittlewayinto
det
thehouse.
Abreezeblew
gennem
throughtheroom,blewcurtainsinatone
ende
endandouttheotherlikepaleflags,
vride
twistingthemuptowardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,
og
andthenrippledoverthewine-coloured
tæppe
rug,makingashadowonitaswind
gør
doesonthesea.
The
eneste
onlycompletelystationaryobjectin
den
theroomwasanenormous
sofa
couchonwhichtwoyoungwomenwerebuoyed
op
upasthoughuponan
forankret
anchoredballoon.
Theywerebothinwhite,
og
andtheirdresseswererippling
og
andflutteringasiftheyhad
lige
justbeenblownbackin
efter
afterashortflightaroundthe
huset
house.
Imusthavestoodfor
et
afewmomentslisteningtothewhip
og
andsnapofthecurtains
og
andthegroanofa
billede
pictureonthewall.
Then
der
therewasaboomasTomBuchanan
lukkede
shuttherearwindowsandthe
fangede
caughtwinddiedoutabouttheroom,
og
andthecurtainsandtherugs
og
andthetwoyoungwomenballooned
langsomt
slowlytothefloor.
The
yngre
youngerofthetwowas
en
astrangertome.
Shewas
udvidet
extendedfulllengthather
ende
endofthedivan,completelymotionless,
og
andwithherchinraiseda
lidt
little,asifshewerebalancing
noget
somethingonitwhichwasquite
sandsynligt
likelytofall.
Ifshe
så
sawmeoutofthecornerofhereyesshe
gav
gavenohintofit—indeed,Iwas
næsten
almostsurprisedintomurmuringan
undskyldning
apologyforhavingdisturbedherby
komme
comingin.
Theothergirl,
Daisy
Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedslightlyforward
med
withaconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,an
absurd
absurd,charminglittlelaugh,andIlaughed
også
tooandcameforwardinto
den
theroom.
“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
She
grinede
laughedagain,asifshe
sagde
saidsomethingverywitty,and
holdt
heldmyhandfora
øjeblik
moment,lookingupintomy
ansigt
face,promisingthattherewas
ingen
nooneintheworldshesomuch
ønskede
wantedtosee.
Thatwas
en
awayshehad.
Shehintedin
en
amurmurthatthesurnameofthebalancinggirlwas
Baker
Baker.
(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwasonlytomake
folk
peopleleantowardher;
an
irrelevant
irrelevantcriticismthatmadeit
ikke
nolesscharming.)
Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,she
nikkede
noddedatmealmostimperceptibly,
og
andthenquicklytippedherhead
tilbage
backagain—theobjectshewas
balancerede
balancinghadobviouslytottereda
lidt
littleandgivenhersomethingof
en
afright.
Againasortof
undskyldning
apologyarosetomylips.
Næsten
Almostanyexhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydraws
en
astunnedtributefromme.
I
kiggede
lookedbackatmycousin,
som
whobegantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrilling
stemme
voice.
Itwasthekindof
stemme
voicethattheearfollows
op
upanddown,asif
hver
eachspeechisanarrangementofnotes
der
thatwillneverbeplayed
igen
again.
Herfacewassad
og
andlovelywithbrightthingsin
det
it,brighteyesandabright
lidenskabelig
passionatemouth,buttherewasan
begejstring
excitementinhervoicethatmenwho
havde
hadcaredforherfound
svært
difficulttoforget:
asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”a
løfte
promisethatshehaddonegay,
spændende
excitingthingsjustawhile
siden
sinceandthatthereweregay,
spændende
excitingthingshoveringinthe
næste
nexthour.
Itoldher
hvordan
howIhadstoppedoffinChicagofora
dag
dayonmywayEast,
og
andhowadozenpeople
havde
hadsenttheirlovethroughme.
“Dothey
savner
missme?”
shecriedecstatically.
“The
hele
wholetownisdesolate.
Allthecars
har
havetheleftrearwheel
malet
paintedblackasamourning
krans
wreath,andthere’sapersistentwail
alle
allnightalongthenorthshore.”
“How
smuk
gorgeous!
Let’sgoback,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thenshe
tilføjede
addedirrelevantly:
“Yououghtto
se
seethebaby.”
“I’dliketo.”
“She’sasleep.
She’s
tre
threeyearsold.
Haven’tyouever
set
seenher?”
“Never.”
“Well,yououghtto
se
seeher.
She’s—”.
TomBuchanan,
der
whohadbeenhoveringrestlesslyabouttheroom,
stoppede
stoppedandrestedhishandonmy
skulder
shoulder.
“Whatyoudoing,Nick?”
“I’m
en
abondman.”
“Whowith?”
I
fortalt
toldhim.
“Neverheardofthem,”heremarkeddecisively.
This
irriterede
annoyedme.
“Youwill,”I
svarede
answeredshortly.
“Youwillifyoustayin
det
theEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayinthe
Øst
East,don’tyouworry,”he
sagde
said,glancingatDaisyandthen
tilbage
backatme,asifhewerealertfor
noget
somethingmore.
“I’dbeaGoddamnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
At
dette
thispointMissBakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
withsuchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwas
det
thefirstwordshehaduttered
siden
sinceIcameintotheroom.
Åbenbart
Evidentlyitsurprisedheras
meget
muchasitdidme,forsheyawned
og
andwithaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstood
op
upintotheroom.
“I’mstiff,”she
klagede
complained,“I’vebeenlyingonthat
sofa
sofaforaslongasI
kan
canremember.”
“Don’tlookatme,”
Daisy
Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingto
få
getyoutoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”
sagde
saidMissBakertothe
fire
fourcocktailsjustinfrom
de
thepantry.
“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Her
vært
hostlookedatherincredulously.
“Youare!”
He
tog
tookdownhisdrinkasifitwerea
dråbe
dropinthebottomofa
glas
glass.
“Howyoueverget
noget
anythingdoneisbeyondme.”
I
kiggede
lookedatMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
I
nød
enjoyedlookingather.
Shewasa
slank
slender,small-breastedgirl,withan
oprejst
erectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedby
kaste
throwingherbodybackwardattheshoulderslikea
ung
youngcadet.
Hergreysun-strainedeyes
kiggede
lookedbackatmewith
høflig
politereciprocalcuriosityoutof
en
awan,charming,discontentedface.
Itoccurredtome
nu
nowthatIhadseen
hende
her,orapictureof
hende
her,somewherebefore.
“Youlivein
West
WestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“I
kender
knowsomebodythere.”
“Idon’t
kender
knowasingle—”.
“Youmust
kende
knowGatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
Før
BeforeIcouldreplythathewasmy
nabo
neighbourdinnerwasannounced;
wedginghistensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromtheroomasthoughhewere
flyttede
movingacheckertoanother
firkant
square.
Slenderly,languidly,theirhandssetlightlyontheirhips,the
to
twoyoungwomenprecededus
ud
outontoarosy-coloured
veranda
porch,opentowardthesunset,
hvor
wherefourcandlesflickeredonthe
bordet
tableinthediminishedwind.
“Whycandles?”
objected
Daisy
Daisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthem
ud
outwithherfingers.
“In
to
twoweeksit’llbethe
længste
longestdayintheyear.”
She
kiggede
lookedatusallradiantly.
“Doyou
altid
alwayswatchforthelongest
dag
dayoftheyearandthen
gå glip af
missit?
Ialwayswatchforthe
længste
longestdayintheyear
og
andthenmissit.”
“Weoughtto
planlægge
plansomething,”yawnedMissBaker,
sidde
sittingdownatthetableasifshewere
komme
gettingintobed.
“Allright,”
sagde
saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdo
folk
peopleplan?”
BeforeIcould
svare
answerhereyesfastenedwith
en
anawedexpressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
she
klagede
complained;
“Ihurtit.”
We
alle
alllooked—theknucklewasblack
og
andblue.
“Youdidit,Tom,”she
sagde
saidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’t
men
meanto,butyoudid
gjorde
doit.
That’swhatI
får
getformarryingabruteof
en
aman,agreat,big,hulking
fysisk
physicalspecimenofa—”.
“I
hader
hatethatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”
insisterede
insistedDaisy.
SometimessheandMiss
Baker
Bakertalkedatonce,unobtrusively
og
andwithabanteringinconsequence
der
thatwasneverquitechatter,
der
thatwasascoolastheirwhitedresses
og
andtheirimpersonaleyesinthe
fravær
absenceofalldesire.
Theywere
her
here,andtheyacceptedTom
og
andme,makingonlya
høflig
politepleasantefforttoentertain
eller
ortobeentertained.
They
vidste
knewthatpresentlydinnerwouldbeover
og
andalittlelatertheevening
også
toowouldbeoverandcasually
lægge
putaway.
Itwassharplydifferentfromthe
Vesten
West,whereaneveningwashurriedfrom
fase
phasetophasetowardsitsclose,ina
løbende
continuallydisappointedanticipationorelseinsheer
nervøs
nervousdreadofthemomentitself.
“Youmakeme
føle
feeluncivilized,Daisy,”Iconfessedonmy
andet
secondglassofcorkybut
temmelig
ratherimpressiveclaret.
“Can’tyou
tale
talkaboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeant
noget
nothinginparticularbythis
bemærkning
remark,butitwastaken
op
upinanunexpectedway.
“Civilization’s
går
goingtopieces,”brokeoutTom
voldsomt
violently.
“I’vegottentobe
en
aterriblepessimistaboutthings.
Har
HaveyoureadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresby
denne
thismanGoddard?”
“Why,no,”I
svarede
answered,rathersurprisedbyhis
tone
tone.
“Well,it’safine
bog
book,andeverybodyoughtto
læse
readit.
Theideais
hvis
ifwedon’tlookout
den
thewhiteracewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.
It’s
alt
allscientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”