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I went out and opened it.
我走出去把它打开。
Gatsby, pale as death, with his hand splunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes.
盖茨比面如死灰，他的手插在衣袋里，站在水坑里，悲惨地瞪着我的眼睛。
With his hands still in his coat pockets he stalked by me into the hall, turned sharply
没有把手从大衣口袋里拿出来，盖茨比大步从我身边走进大厅，猛地转过身来，
as if he were on a wire and disappeared into the living room.
像是被丝线控制了一样，消失在客厅里。
It wasn't a bit funny.
一点也不好玩。
Aware of the loud beating of my own heart I pulled the door to against the increasing rain.
意识到自己的心在怦怦地狂跳，我拉上了门，以抵御越来越大的雨。
For half a minute there wasn't a sound.
有半分钟没有声音。
Then from the living room I heard a sort of choking murmur and part of a laugh followed by Daisy's voice on a clear artificial note.
接着，我听见从客厅里传来哽咽的低语和一声笑声，接着是黛西的声音，清晰而做作。
"I certainly am awfully glad to see you again."
“能再次见到你，我真是太高兴了。”
A pause; it endured horribly. I had nothing to do in the hall so I went into the room.
一阵长得可怕的寂静。我在大厅里无事可做，所以走进了房间。
Gatsby, his hands still in his pockets, was reclining against the mantelpiece in a strained counterfeit of perfect ease, even of boredom.
盖茨比的手还插在衣袋里，斜倚在壁炉架上，勉强装出一副十分悠闲的样子，甚至有些无精打采。
His head leaned back so far that it rested against the face of a defunct mantelpiece clock
他的头向后仰得很厉害，靠在一只壁炉上早已报废的时钟上。
and from this position his distraught eyes stared down at Daisy who was sitting frightened but graceful on the edge of a stiff chair.
他站在那里，慌乱的眼睛向下看着黛西，黛西坐在一张硬背椅子的边缘，虽然惶恐，却很优雅。
"We've met before," muttered Gatsby.
“我们以前见过。”盖茨比低声说。
His eyes glanced momentarily at me and his lips parted with an abortive attempt at a laugh.
他的眼睛短暂地瞥了我一眼，他的嘴唇张开，试图笑一下，但没有笑出来。
Luckily the clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his head,
幸运的是，在他头部的压力下，钟危险地倾斜了，
whereupon he turned and caught it with trembling fingers and set it back in place.
于是他转过身来，用颤抖的手指抓住它，把它放回原处。
Then he sat down, rigidly, his elbow on the arm of the sofa and his chin in his hand.
然后他僵硬地坐了下来，胳膊肘搁在沙发扶手上，手托着下巴。
"I'm sorry about the clock," he said.
“钟的事我很抱歉，”他说。
My own face had now assumed a deep tropical burn.
我自己的脸这时也热了起来。
I couldn't muster up a single commonplace out of the thousand in my head.
脑子里有一千句陈词滥调，却一句也想不出来。
"It's an old clock," I told them idiotically.
“这是一个旧钟。”我傻乎乎地对他们说。
I think we all believed for a moment that it had smashed in pieces on the floor.
我想我们当时都相信它在地板上摔成了碎片。
