Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн
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“Miss Gloria’s not feeling well. She’s lying down, asleep. Who shall I say called?”
“Nobody!” he shouted.
In a wild panic he slammed down the receiver; collapsed into his armchair in the cold sweat of breathless relief.
Serenade.
The first thing he said to her was: “Why, you’ve bobbed your hair!” and she answered: “Yes, isn’t it gorgeous?”
It was not fashionable then. It was to be fashionable in five or six years. At that time it was considered extremely daring.
“It’s all sunshine outdoors,” he said gravely. “Don’t you want to take a walk?”
She put on a light coat and a quaintly piquant Napoleon hat of Alice Blue, and they walked along the Avenue and into the Zoo, where they properly admired the grandeur of the elephant and the collar-height of the giraffe, but did not visit the monkey house because Gloria said that monkeys smelt so bad.
Then they returned toward the Plaza, talking about nothing, but glad for the spring singing in the air and for the warm balm that lay upon the suddenly golden city. To their right was the Park, while at the left a great bulk of granite and marble muttered dully a millionaire’s chaotic message to whosoever would listen: something about “I worked and I saved and I was sharper than all Adam and here I sit, by golly, by golly!”