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"An Oxford man!" He was incredulous. "Like hell he is! He wears a pink suit."
“一个牛津大学的人！”他被怀疑。“真该死！他穿着一套粉红色的西装。”
"Nevertheless he's an Oxford man."
“不过他是牛津人。”
"Oxford, New Mexico," snorted Tom contemptuously, "or something like that."
“新墨西哥州的牛津，”汤姆轻蔑地哼了一声，“或者类似的地方。”
"Listen, Tom. If you're such a snob, why did you invite him to lunch?"demanded Jordan crossly.
“听着，汤姆。如果你这么势利，为什么还要请他吃午饭？”乔丹气愤的说到。
"Daisy invited him; she knew him before we were married--God knows where!"
“黛西邀请他；她在我们结婚之前就认识他了——天知道在哪儿！”
We were all irritable now with the fading ale and, aware of it, we drove for a while in silence.
酒性越来越淡了，我们都很烦躁，意识到这一点后，我们沉默地开了一会儿车。
Then as Doctor T. J. Eckleburg's faded eyes came into sight down the road, I remembered Gatsby's caution about gasoline.
后来，当T·J·埃克尔堡医生的暗淡的眼睛在路上出现时，我想起了盖茨比关于汽油不够的警告。
"We've got enough to get us to town," said Tom.
“我们有足够的汽油进城，”汤姆说。
"But there's a garage right here," objected Jordan. "I don't want to get stalled in this baking heat."
“但是这里有一个车库，”乔丹反对道。“我不想在这么热的天气里被困住。”
Tom threw on both brakes impatiently and we slid to an abrupt dusty stop under Wilson's sign.
汤姆急不可耐地急刹车，我们在威尔逊的招牌下，灰蒙蒙地刹住了车。
After a moment the proprietor emerged from the interior of his establishment and gazed hollow-eyed at the car.
过了一会儿，店主从他的店里走出来，低垂着眼睛盯着那辆车。
"Let's have some gas!" cried Tom roughly. "What do you think we stopped for--to admire the view?"
“给我们加点汽油！”汤姆粗暴地叫道。“你以为我们停车是为了——欣赏风景吗？”
"I'm sick," said Wilson without moving. "I been sick all day."
“我病了，”威尔逊一动不动地说。“我病了一整天。”
"What's the matter?"
“怎么了?”
"I'm all run down."
“我累坏了。”
"Well, shall I help myself?" Tom demanded. "You sounded well enough on the phone."
“那么，我要自己动手吗？”汤姆要求。“你在电话里听起来很不错。”
With an effort Wilson left the shade and support of the doorway and, breathing hard,
威尔逊费了好大劲才离开了门口的阴影和支撑点，喘着粗气，
unscrewed the cap of the tank. In the sunlight his face was green.
拧开水箱盖。在阳光下，他的脸色是青色的。
