The Great Gatsby | Progressive Norwegian A1 Translation Books

The Great Gatsby | Progressive Norwegian A1 Translation Books

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I
Inmyyounger
og
and
morevulnerableyearsmy
faren
father
gavemesomeadvice
som
that
I’vebeenturningoverinmymindever
siden
since
.
“Wheneveryoufeellikecriticizinganyone,”he
sa
told
me,“justrememberthatall
de
the
peopleinthisworldhaven’thad
de
the
advantagesthatyou’vehad.”
Hedidn’t
sa
say
anymore,butwe’ve
alltid
always
beenunusuallycommunicativein
en
a
reservedway,andIunderstoodthathe
betydde
meant
agreatdealmore
enn
than
that.
Inconsequence,I’minclinedtoreserve
alle
all
judgements,ahabitthat
har
has
openedupmanycuriousnaturestome
og
and
alsomademethevictimofnot
en
a
fewveteranbores.
Theabnormalmindisquicktodetect
og
and
attachitselftothisquality
når
when
itappearsinanormal
person
person
,andsoitcameaboutthatincollegeIwasunjustlyaccusedofbeing
en
a
politician,becauseIwasprivytothesecretgriefsofwild,unknownmen.
De fleste
Most
oftheconfidenceswereunsought—frequentlyI
har
have
feignedsleep,preoccupation,orahostilelevity
når
when
Irealizedbysomeunmistakable
tegn
sign
thatanintimaterevelationwasquiveringon
de
the
horizon;
fortheintimaterevelationsof
unge
young
men,oratleastthetermsin
som
which
theyexpressthem,areusuallyplagiaristic
og
and
marredbyobvioussuppressions.
Reservingjudgementsis
et
a
matterofinfinitehope.
Iam
fortsatt
still
alittleafraidof
glipp
missing
somethingifIforgetthat,asmy
far
father
snobbishlysuggested,andIsnobbishlyrepeat,
en
a
senseofthefundamentaldecenciesisparcelled
ut
out
unequallyatbirth.
And,
etter
after
boastingthiswayofmytolerance,I
kommer
come
totheadmissionthatithas
en
a
limit.
Conductmaybefoundedonthe
harde
hard
rockorthewetmarshes,
men
but
afteracertainpointIdon’tcarewhatit’sfounded
on
.
WhenIcamebackfromtheEast
sist
last
autumnIfeltthatI
ønsket
wanted
theworldtobeinuniform
og
and
atasortofmoralattentionforever;
I
ville
wanted
nomoreriotousexcursions
med
with
privilegedglimpsesintothe
menneskelige
human
heart.
OnlyGatsby,the
mannen
man
whogiveshisnameto
denne
this
book,wasexemptfrommyreaction—Gatsby,whorepresented
alt
everything
forwhichIhave
en
an
unaffectedscorn.
Ifpersonalityisanunbrokenseriesofsuccessfulgestures,thentherewas
noe
something
gorgeousabouthim,someheightenedsensitivitytothepromisesoflife,asifhewererelatedtooneofthoseintricatemachinesthatregisterearthquakes
ti
ten
thousandmilesaway.
Thisresponsivenesshad
ingenting
nothing
todowiththatflabbyimpressionabilitywhichisdignified
under
under
thenameofthe“creativetemperament”—itwasanextraordinarygiftfor
håp
hope
,aromanticreadinesssuchasI
har
have
neverfoundinany
annen
other
personandwhichitisnotlikelyIshallever
finne
find
again.
No—Gatsbyturnedoutallrightatthe
slutten
end
;
itiswhatpreyedonGatsby,whatfouldustfloatedin
de
the
wakeofhisdreamsthattemporarilyclosed
ut
out
myinterestintheabortivesorrows
og
and
short-windedelationsofmen.
My
familie
family
havebeenprominent,well-to-do
mennesker
people
inthisMiddleWestern
byen
city
forthreegenerations.
TheCarrawaysare
noe
something
ofaclan,andwe
har
have
atraditionthatwe’redescendedfrom
den
the
DukesofBuccleuch,but
den
the
actualfounderofmy
linje
line
wasmygrandfather’sbrother,who
kom
came
hereinfifty-one,sent
en
a
substitutetotheCivilWar,
og
and
startedthewholesalehardware
virksomhet
business
thatmyfathercarriesontoday.
I
aldri
never
sawthisgreat-uncle,butI’msupposedto
se
look
likehim—withspecialreferenceto
den
the
ratherhard-boiledpaintingthat
henger
hangs
infather’soffice.
IgraduatedfromNewHavenin1915,
bare
just
aquarterofacentury
etter
after
myfather,andalittle
senere
later
IparticipatedinthatdelayedTeutonicmigration
kjent
known
astheGreatWar.
Ienjoyedthecounter-raidsothoroughly
at
that
Icamebackrestless.
Insteadofbeing
den
the
warmcentreofthe
verden
world
,theMiddleWestnowseemed
som
like
theraggededgeof
den
the
universe—soIdecidedto
go
Eastandlearnthebondbusiness.
Alle
Everybody
Iknewwasinthebondbusiness,soIsupposedit
kunne
could
supportonemoresingle
mann
man
.
Allmyauntsanduncles
snakket
talked
itoverasiftheywerechoosing
en
a
prepschoolforme,
og
and
finallysaid,“Why—ye-es,”with
veldig
very
grave,hesitantfaces.
Fatheragreedtofinancemefor
et
a
year,andaftervariousdelaysI
kom
came
East,permanently,Ithought,inthespringoftwenty-two.
Thepracticalthingwasto
finne
find
roomsinthecity,
men
but
itwasawarmseason,
og
and
Ihadjustlefta
land
country
ofwidelawnsandfriendlytrees,so
da
when
ayoungmanattheofficesuggestedthatwe
tok
take
ahousetogetherinacommutingtown,it
hørtes
sounded
likeagreatidea.
He
fant
found
thehouse,aweather-beatencardboardbungalowateighty
en
a
month,butatthe
siste
last
minutethefirmorderedhimtoWashington,
og
and
Iwentouttothecountry
alene
alone
.
Ihadadog—atleastI
hadde
had
himforafewdaysuntilheranaway—andan
gammel
old
DodgeandaFinnish
kvinne
woman
,whomademybed
og
and
cookedbreakfastandmutteredFinnishwisdomtoherself
over
over
theelectricstove.
Itwaslonelyfora
dag
day
orsountilone
morgen
morning
someman,morerecentlyarrived
enn
than
I,stoppedmeontheroad.
“Howdoyou
kommer
get
toWestEggvillage?”
he
spurte
asked
helplessly.
Itoldhim.
Og
And
asIwalkedonIwaslonelynolonger.
Iwasaguide,apathfinder,anoriginalsettler.
He
hadde
had
casuallyconferredonmethefreedomoftheneighbourhood.
Og
And
sowiththesunshine
og
and
thegreatburstsofleavesgrowingonthetrees,
akkurat
just
asthingsgrowin
raske
fast
movies,Ihadthatfamiliarconvictionthat
livet
life
wasbeginningoveragain
med
with
thesummer.
Therewasso
mye
much
toread,forone
ting
thing
,andsomuchfinehealthtobepulled
ned
down
outoftheyoungbreath-giving
luft
air
.
Iboughtadozenvolumesonbanking
og
and
creditandinvestmentsecurities,
og
and
theystoodonmyshelfin
rødt
red
andgoldlikenew
penger
money
fromthemint,promisingtounfoldtheshiningsecretsthat
bare
only
MidasandMorganandMaecenas
visste
knew
.
AndIhadthe
høye
high
intentionofreadingmany
andre
other
booksbesides.
Iwasratherliteraryincollege—one
år
year
Iwroteaseriesof
veldig
very
solemnandobviouseditorialsfor
den
the
YaleNews—andnowIwasgoingto
bringe
bring
backallsuchthingsintomy
livet
life
andbecomeagainthat
mest
most
limitedofallspecialists,
den
the
“well-roundedman.”
Thisisn’t
bare
just
anepigram—lifeismuch
mer
more
successfullylookedatfromasinglewindow,after
alt
all
.
Itwasamatterof
tilfeldighet
chance
thatIshouldhaverenteda
hus
house
inoneofthestrangestcommunitiesinNorthAmerica.
ItwasonthatslenderriotousislandwhichextendsitselfdueeastofNewYork—and
hvor
where
thereare,amongothernaturalcuriosities,
to
two
unusualformationsofland.
Twentymilesfrom
den
the
cityapairofenormouseggs,identicalincontour
og
and
separatedonlybyacourtesybay,jut
ut
out
intothemostdomesticated
kroppen
body
ofsaltwaterin
den
the
Westernhemisphere,thegreatwetbarnyardofLongIslandSound.
Theyarenotperfectovals—liketheeggintheColumbusstory,theyare
begge
both
crushedflatatthecontactend—buttheirphysicalresemblance
must
beasourceofperpetualwondertothegulls
som
that
flyoverhead.
Tothewingless
et
a
moreinterestingphenomenonistheirdissimilarityineveryparticularexceptshape
og
and
size.
IlivedatWestEgg,the—well,thelessfashionableofthe
to
two
,thoughthisisa
mest
most
superficialtagtoexpressthebizarre
og
and
notalittlesinistercontrast
mellom
between
them.
Myhousewasattheverytipoftheegg,
bare
only
fiftyyardsfromtheSound,
og
and
squeezedbetweentwohugeplaces
som
that
rentedfortwelveorfifteenthousand
en
a
season.
Theoneonmy
høyre
right
wasacolossalaffairbyanystandard—itwasafactualimitationofsomeHôteldeVilleinNormandy,
med
with
atowerononeside,spanking
ny
new
underathinbeardofrawivy,
og
and
amarbleswimmingpool,
og
and
morethanfortyacresoflawn
og
and
garden.
ItwasGatsby’smansion.
Eller
Or
,rather,asIdidn’t
kjente
know
Mr.Gatsby,itwasamansioninhabitedbyagentlemanofthat
navnet
name
.
Myownhousewasaneyesore,
men
but
itwasasmalleyesore,
og
and
ithadbeenoverlooked,soI
hadde
had
aviewofthe
vannet
water
,apartialviewofmyneighbour’slawn,
og
and
theconsolingproximityofmillionaires—allforeightydollarsamonth.
AcrossthecourtesybaythewhitepalacesoffashionableEastEggglittered
langs
along
thewater,andthehistoryofthesummer
virkelig
really
beginsontheeveningI
kjørte
drove
overtheretohave
middag
dinner
withtheTomBuchanans.
Daisywasmy
andre
second
cousinonceremoved,andI’dknownTomincollege.
Og
And
justafterthewarIspent
to
two
dayswiththeminChicago.
Her
ektemann
husband
,amongvariousphysicalaccomplishments,
hadde
had
beenoneofthemostpowerful
ender
ends
thateverplayedfootballatNewHaven—anationalfigureina
måte
way
,oneofthosemenwhoreach
slik
such
anacutelimitedexcellenceattwenty-onethat
alt
everything
afterwardsavoursofanticlimax.
His
familie
family
wereenormouslywealthy—evenincollegehisfreedom
med
with
moneywasamatterforreproach—but
now
he’dleftChicagoand
kom
come
Eastinafashion
som
that
rathertookyourbreathaway:
forinstance,he’dbrought
ned
down
astringofpoloponiesfromLakeForest.
Itwas
vanskelig
hard
torealizethata
mann
man
inmyowngenerationwaswealthy
nok
enough
todothat.
Whythey
kom
came
EastIdon’tknow.
They
hadde
had
spentayearinFrancefornoparticular
grunn
reason
,andthendriftedhere
og
and
thereunrestfullywhereverpeople
spilte
played
poloandwererich
sammen
together
.
Thiswasapermanent
trekk
move
,saidDaisyoverthetelephone,
men
but
Ididn’tbelieveit—I
hadde
had
nosightintoDaisy’s
hjerte
heart
,butIfeltthatTom
ville
would
driftonforeverseeking,
et
a
littlewistfully,forthedramaticturbulenceofsomeirrecoverablefootballgame.
Og
And
soithappenedthaton
en
a
warmwindyeveningI
kjørte
drove
overtoEastEggto
se
see
twooldfriendswhomIscarcely
kjente
knew
atall.
Theirhousewas
enda
even
moreelaboratethanIexpected,
en
a
cheerfulred-and-whiteGeorgianColonialmansion,overlookingthebay.
Thelawnstartedatthebeach
og
and
rantowardsthefrontdoorfor
en
a
quarterofamile,jumping
over
over
sundialsandbrickwalks
og
and
burninggardens—finallywhenitreachedthe
huset
house
driftingupthesideinbrightvinesas
om
though
fromthemomentumofits
løp
run
.
Thefrontwasbrokenby
en
a
lineofFrenchwindows,glowing
now
withreflectedgoldandwide
åpent
open
tothewarmwindyafternoon,
og
and
TomBuchananinridingclotheswasstanding
med
with
hislegsaparton
den
the
frontporch.
Hehadchanged
siden
since
hisNewHavenyears.
Now
hewasasturdystraw-haired
mann
man
ofthirty,witharatherhardmouth
og
and
asuperciliousmanner.
Twoshiningarroganteyes
hadde
had
establisheddominanceoverhis
ansiktet
face
andgavehimtheappearanceof
alltid
always
leaningaggressivelyforward.
Not
engang
even
theeffeminateswankofhisridingclothes
kunne
could
hidetheenormouspowerofthatbody—heseemedtofillthoseglisteningbootsuntilhestrainedthe
øverste
top
lacing,andyoucould
se
see
agreatpackofmuscleshifting
når
when
hisshouldermovedunderhisthincoat.
Itwas
en
a
bodycapableofenormousleverage—acruelbody.
Hisspeakingvoice,
en
a
gruffhuskytenor,addedtotheimpressionoffractiousnessheconveyed.
Therewas
et
a
touchofpaternalcontemptinit,
selv
even
towardpeopleheliked—andthereweremenatNewHaven
som
who
hadhatedhisguts.
“Now,don’t
tro
think
myopiniononthesemattersisfinal,”heseemedto
si
say
,“justbecauseI’mstronger
og
and
moreofaman
enn
than
youare.”
Wewereinthe
samme
same
seniorsociety,andwhilewewere
aldri
never
intimateIalwayshadtheimpression
at
that
heapprovedofme
og
and
wantedmetolikehim
med
with
someharsh,defiantwistfulnessofhis
egen
own
.
Wetalkedfora
noen
few
minutesonthesunnyporch.
“I’vegot
et
a
niceplacehere,”he
sa
said
,hiseyesflashingaboutrestlessly.
Turningme
rundt
around
byonearm,he
flyttet
moved
abroadflathand
langs
along
thefrontvista,includinginitssweepasunkenItaliangarden,a
halv
half
acreofdeep,pungentroses,
og
and
asnub-nosedmotorboatthatbumpedthetideoffshore.
“ItbelongedtoDemaine,theoilman.”
He
snudde
turned
mearoundagain,politely
og
and
abruptly.
“We’llgoinside.”
We
gikk
walked
throughahighhallwayinto
en
a
brightrosy-colouredspace,fragilelyboundintothe
huset
house
byFrenchwindowsateither
ender
end
.
Thewindowswereajar
og
and
gleamingwhiteagainstthefreshgrass
utenfor
outside
thatseemedtogrow
en
a
littlewayintothe
huset
house
.
Abreezeblewthroughthe
rommet
room
,blewcurtainsinatone
enden
end
andouttheotherlikepaleflags,twistingthem
opp
up
towardthefrostedwedding-cakeoftheceiling,
og
and
thenrippledoverthewine-colouredrug,
gjør
making
ashadowonitaswind
gjør
does
onthesea.
The
eneste
only
completelystationaryobjectinthe
rommet
room
wasanenormouscouchonwhich
to
two
youngwomenwerebuoyed
opp
up
asthoughuponananchoredballoon.
Theywere
begge
both
inwhite,andtheirdresseswererippling
og
and
flutteringasifthey
hadde
had
justbeenblownbackin
etter
after
ashortflightaroundthe
huset
house
.
Imusthavestoodfor
et
a
fewmomentslisteningtothewhip
og
and
snapofthecurtains
og
and
thegroanofapictureonthewall.
Then
det
there
wasaboomasTomBuchanan
lukket
shut
therearwindowsandthe
fanget
caught
winddiedoutaboutthe
rommet
room
,andthecurtainsandtherugs
og
and
thetwoyoungwomenballoonedslowlytothefloor.
Theyoungerofthe
to
two
wasastrangerto
meg
me
.
Shewasextendedfulllengthather
slutten
end
ofthedivan,completelymotionless,
og
and
withherchinraisedalittle,as
om
if
shewerebalancingsomethingonitwhichwasquitelikelyto
falle
fall
.
Ifshesawme
ut
out
ofthecornerofhereyesshegave
ingen
no
hintofit—indeed,Iwas
nesten
almost
surprisedintomurmuringanapologyfor
ha
having
disturbedherbycomingin.
Den
The
othergirl,Daisy,madeanattempttorise—sheleanedslightlyforward
med
with
aconscientiousexpression—thenshelaughed,anabsurd,charming
liten
little
laugh,andIlaughed
også
too
andcameforwardinto
den
the
room.
“I’mp-paralysedwithhappiness.”
Shelaughed
igjen
again
,asifshesaid
noe
something
verywitty,andheldmy
hånden
hand
foramoment,looking
opp
up
intomyface,promisingthattherewas
ingen
no
oneintheworldsheso
mye
much
wantedtosee.
Thatwas
en
a
wayshehad.
Shehintedin
en
a
murmurthatthesurnameofthebalancing
jenta
girl
wasBaker.
(I’vehearditsaidthatDaisy’smurmurwas
bare
only
tomakepeopleleantoward
henne
her
;
anirrelevantcriticismthat
gjorde
made
itnolesscharming.)
Atanyrate,MissBaker’slipsfluttered,shenoddedatme
nesten
almost
imperceptibly,andthenquicklytippedher
hodet
head
backagain—theobjectshewasbalancing
hadde
had
obviouslytotteredalittle
og
and
givenhersomethingof
en
a
fright.
Againasortofapologyarosetomylips.
Nesten
Almost
anyexhibitionofcompleteself-sufficiencydraws
en
a
stunnedtributefromme.
I
looked
backatmycousin,
som
who
begantoaskmequestionsinherlow,thrillingvoice.
Itwasthe
typen
kind
ofvoicethattheear
følger
follows
upanddown,as
om
if
eachspeechisanarrangementofnotesthat
vil
will
neverbeplayedagain.
Her
ansiktet
face
wassadandlovely
med
with
brightthingsinit,brighteyes
og
and
abrightpassionatemouth,
men
but
therewasanexcitementinhervoicethatmenwho
hadde
had
caredforherfounddifficultto
glemme
forget
:
asingingcompulsion,awhispered“Listen,”a
løfte
promise
thatshehaddonegay,excitingthings
bare
just
awhilesinceandthatthereweregay,excitingthingshoveringin
den
the
nexthour.
Itoldher
hvordan
how
IhadstoppedoffinChicagofora
dag
day
onmywayEast,
og
and
howadozenpeople
hadde
had
senttheirlovethroughme.
“Dothey
savner
miss
me?”
shecriedecstatically.
“Thewhole
byen
town
isdesolate.
Allthecars
har
have
theleftrearwheelpainted
svart
black
asamourningwreath,
og
and
there’sapersistentwail
alle
all
nightalongthenorthshore.”
“Howgorgeous!
Let’s
go
back,Tom.
Tomorrow!”
Thensheaddedirrelevantly:
“Yououghtto
se
see
thebaby.”
“I’dliketo.”
“She’sasleep.
She’s
tre
three
yearsold.
Haven’tyouever
sett
seen
her?”
“Never.”
“Well,yououghtto
se
see
her.
She’s—”.
TomBuchanan,
som
who
hadbeenhoveringrestlessly
om
about
theroom,stoppedand
hvilte
rested
hishandonmyshoulder.
“Whatyou
gjør
doing
,Nick?”
“I’mabondman.”
“Whowith?”
I
fortalte
told
him.
“Neverheardofthem,”heremarkeddecisively.
Dette
This
annoyedme.
“Youwill,”I
svarte
answered
shortly.
“YouwillifyoustayintheEast.”
“Oh,I’llstayintheEast,don’tyouworry,”he
sa
said
,glancingatDaisyandthen
tilbake
back
atme,asifhewerealertfor
noe
something
more.
“I’dbea
Gud
God
damnedfooltoliveanywhereelse.”
At
dette
this
pointMissBakersaid:
“Absolutely!”
med
with
suchsuddennessthatIstarted—itwasthe
første
first
wordshehaduttered
siden
since
Icameintothe
rommet
room
.
Evidentlyitsurprisedheras
mye
much
asitdidme,forsheyawned
og
and
withaseriesofrapid,deftmovementsstood
opp
up
intotheroom.
“I’mstiff,”shecomplained,“I’vebeenlyingonthatsofaforas
lenge
long
asIcanremember.”
“Don’t
se
look
atme,”Daisyretorted,“I’vebeentryingto
get
youtoNewYorkallafternoon.”
“No,thanks,”
sa
said
MissBakertothe
fire
four
cocktailsjustinfrom
de
the
pantry.
“I’mabsolutelyintraining.”
Herhost
looked
atherincredulously.
“Youare!”
He
tok
took
downhisdrinkas
om
if
itwereadropinthebottomofaglass.
“Howyouever
får
get
anythingdoneisbeyondme.”
I
looked
atMissBaker,wonderingwhatitwasshe“gotdone.”
Ienjoyed
se
looking
ather.
Shewasaslender,small-breasted
jente
girl
,withanerectcarriage,whichsheaccentuatedbythrowingher
kroppen
body
backwardattheshoulderslikeayoungcadet.
Hergreysun-strainedeyes
looked
backatmewithpolitereciprocalcuriosity
ut
out
ofawan,charming,discontented
ansikt
face
.
Itoccurredtome
now
thatIhadseen
henne
her
,orapictureof
henne
her
,somewherebefore.
“YouliveinWestEgg,”sheremarkedcontemptuously.
“I
kjenner
know
somebodythere.”
“Idon’t
kjenner
know
asingle—”.
“Youmust
kjenne
know
Gatsby.”
“Gatsby?”
demandedDaisy.
“WhatGatsby?”
Før
Before
Icouldreplythathewasmyneighbour
middag
dinner
wasannounced;
wedginghistensearmimperativelyundermine,TomBuchanancompelledmefromthe
rommet
room
asthoughhewere
flyttet
moving
acheckertoanothersquare.
Slenderly,languidly,theirhands
satt
set
lightlyontheirhips,the
to
two
youngwomenprecededus
ut
out
ontoarosy-colouredporch,
åpen
open
towardthesunset,where
fire
four
candlesflickeredonthetableinthediminishedwind.
“Whycandles?”
objectedDaisy,frowning.
Shesnappedthem
ut
out
withherfingers.
“In
to
two
weeksit’llbethelongest
dagen
day
intheyear.”
She
looked
atusallradiantly.
“Doyou
alltid
always
watchforthelongest
dagen
day
oftheyearandthen
glipp
miss
it?
Ialwayswatchforthelongest
dagen
day
intheyearandthen
glipp
miss
it.”
“Weoughtto
planlegge
plan
something,”yawnedMissBaker,
sitter
sitting
downatthetableas
om
if
sheweregettinginto
sengen
bed
.
“Allright,”saidDaisy.
“What’llweplan?”
Sheturnedtomehelplessly:
“Whatdo
folk
people
plan?”
BeforeIcould
svare
answer
hereyesfastenedwith
en
an
awedexpressiononherlittlefinger.
“Look!”
shecomplained;
“I
skadet
hurt
it.”
Wealllooked—theknucklewas
svart
black
andblue.
“Youdid
det
it
,Tom,”shesaidaccusingly.
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanto,
men
but
youdiddoit.
That’swhatI
får
get
formarryingabruteof
en
a
man,agreat,big,hulkingphysicalspecimenofa—”.
“I
hater
hate
thatword‘hulking,’ ”objectedTomcrossly,“eveninkidding.”
“Hulking,”insistedDaisy.
Noen ganger
Sometimes
sheandMissBakertalkedatonce,unobtrusively
og
and
withabanteringinconsequencethatwas
aldri
never
quitechatter,thatwasas
kjølig
cool
astheirwhitedresses
og
and
theirimpersonaleyesintheabsenceof
alle
all
desire.
Theywerehere,
og
and
theyacceptedTomand
meg
me
,makingonlyapolitepleasantefforttoentertain
eller
or
tobeentertained.
They
visste
knew
thatpresentlydinnerwouldbe
over
over
andalittlelaterthe
kvelden
evening
toowouldbeover
og
and
casuallyputaway.
Itwassharply
forskjellig
different
fromtheWest,wherean
kveld
evening
washurriedfromphasetophasetowardsitsclose,inacontinuallydisappointedanticipation
eller
or
elseinsheernervousdreadofthe
øyeblikket
moment
itself.
“Youmakemefeeluncivilized,Daisy,”Iconfessedonmy
andre
second
glassofcorkybutratherimpressiveclaret.
“Can’tyou
snakke
talk
aboutcropsorsomething?”
Imeantnothinginparticularby
denne
this
remark,butitwas
tatt
taken
upinanunexpected
måte
way
.
“Civilization’sgoingtopieces,”
brøt
broke
outTomviolently.
“I’vegottentobe
en
a
terriblepessimistaboutthings.
Har
Have
youreadTheRiseoftheColouredEmpiresby
denne
this
manGoddard?”
“Why,no,”I
svarte
answered
,rathersurprisedbyhistone.
“Well,it’s
en
a
finebook,andeverybodyoughtto
lese
read
it.
Theideais
hvis
if
wedon’tlookout
den
the
whiteracewillbe—willbeutterlysubmerged.
It’s
alt
all
scientificstuff;
it’sbeenproved.”