Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“Going back—going back,

Going—back—to—Nas-sau—Hall,

Going back—going back—

To the—Best—Old—Place—of—All.

Going back—going back,

From all—this—earth-ly—ball,

We’ll—clear—the—track—as—we—go—back—

Going—back—to—Nas-sau—Hall!”

Amory closed his eyes as the ghostly procession drew near. The song soared so high that all dropped out except the tenors, who bore the melody triumphantly past the danger-point and relinquished it to the fantastic chorus. Then Amory opened his eyes, half afraid that sight would spoil the rich illusion of harmony.

He sighed eagerly. There at the head of the white platoon marched Allenby, the football captain, slim and defiant, as if aware that this year the hopes of the college rested on him, that his hundred-and-sixty pounds were expected to dodge to victory through the heavy blue and crimson lines.

Fascinated, Amory watched each rank of linked arms as it came abreast, the faces indistinct above the polo shirts, the voices blent in a pæan of triumph—and then the procession passed through shadowy Campbell Arch, and the voices grew fainter as it wound eastward over the campus.