Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“Well, you know how it is in New York,” explained Michael apologetically. “He’s just as busy as I am. He has made a big name for himself and I suppose he’s pretty much in demand all the time.”

They always spoke of Charley Hart as their oldest friend. Five years before, when Michael and Marion were first married, the three of them had come to New York from the same western city. For over a year they had seen Charley nearly every day and no domestic adventure, no uprush of their hopes and dreams, was too insignificant for his ear. His arrival in times of difficulty never failed to give a pleasant, humorous cast to the situation.

Of course Marion’s babies had made a difference, and it was several years now since they had called up Charley at midnight to say that the pipes had broken or the ceiling was falling in on their heads; but so gradually had they drifted apart that Michael still spoke of Charley rather proudly as if he saw him every day. For awhile Charley dined with them once a month and all three found a great deal to say; but the meetings never broke up anymore with, “I’ll give you a ring tomorrow.” Instead it was, “You’ll have to come to dinner more often,” or even, after three or four years, “We’ll see you soon.”