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F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Great Gatsby

like a pigsty, and the general opinion in the village was that the new people weren‟t servants at all. Next day Gatsby called me on the phone. “Going away?” I inquired. “No, old sport.” “I hear you fired all your servants.” “I wanted somebody who wouldn‟t gossip. Daisy comes

over quite often—in the afternoons.” So the whole caravansary had fallen in like a card house at

the disapproval in her eyes. “They‟re some people Wolfsheim wanted to do something

for. They‟re all brothers and sisters. They used to run a small hotel.” “I see.” He was calling up at Daisy‟s request — would I come to

lunch at her house to-morrow? Miss Baker would be there. Half an hour later Daisy herself telephoned and seemed relieved to find that I was coming. Something was up. And yet I couldn‟t believe that they would choose this occasion for a scene — especially for the rather harrowing scene that Gatsby had outlined in the garden. The next day was broiling, almost the last, certainly the warmest, of the summer. As my train emerged from the tunnel

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