Knowledge house - The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Oh, my God !” he cried, drawing in his breath sharply.

Burying his face in the pillows he tried in vain to concentrate upon the details of the next day.

In the gray light he found that it was only five o’clock. He regretted nervously that he had awakened so early—he would appear fagged at the wedding. He envied Gloria who could hide her fatigue with careful pigmentation.

In his bathroom he contemplated himself in the mirror and saw that he was unusually white—half a dozen small imperfections stood out against the morning pallor of his complexion, and overnight he had grown the faint stubble of a beard—the general effect, he fancied, was unprepossessing, haggard, half unwell.

On his dressing table were spread a number of articles which he told over carefully with suddenly fumbling fingers—their tickets to California, the book of traveller’s checks, his watch, set to the half minute, the key to his apartment, which he must not forget to give to Maury, and, most important of all, the ring. It was of platinum set around with small emeralds; Gloria had insisted on this; she had always wanted an emerald wedding ring, she said.

It was the third present he had given her; first had come the engagement ring, and then a little gold cigarette-case. He would be giving her many things now—clothes and jewels and friends and excitement. It seemed absurd that from now on he would pay for all her meals. It was going to cost: he wondered if he had not underestimated for this trip, and if he had not better cash a larger check. The question worried him.

Then the breathless impendency of the event swept his mind clear of details. This was the day—unsought, unsuspected six months before, but now breaking in yellow light through his east window, dancing along the carpet as though the sun were smiling at some ancient and reiterated gag of his own.

Anthony laughed in a nervous one-syllable snort.

“By God!” he muttered to himself, “I’m as good as married!”

Six young men in Cross Patch’s library growing more and more cheery under the influence of Mumm’s Extra Dry, set surreptitiously in cold pails by the bookcases.

The First Young Man : By golly! Believe me, in my next book I’m going to do a wedding scene that’ll knock ’em cold!

The Second Young Man : Met a débutante th’other day said she thought your book was powerful. As a rule young girls cry for this primitive business.

The Third Young Man : Where’s Anthony?

The Fourth Young Man : Walking up and down outside talking to himself.

Second Young Man : Lord! Did you see the minister? Most peculiar looking teeth.

Fifth Young Man : Think they’re natural. Funny thing people having gold teeth.

Sixth Young Man : They say they love ’em. My dentist told me once a woman came to him and insisted on having two of her teeth covered with gold. No reason at all. All right the way they were.

Fourth Young Man : Hear you got out a book, Dicky. ‘Gratulations!

Dick : ( Stiffly ) Thanks.

Fourth Young Man : ( Innocently ) What is it? College stories?

Dick : ( More stiffly ) No. Not college stories.

Fourth Young Man : Pity! Hasn’t been a good book about Harvard for years.

Dick : ( Touchily ) Why don’t you supply the lack?

Third Young Man : I think I saw a squad of guests turn the drive in a Packard just now.

Sixth Young Man : Might open a couple more bottles on the strength of that.

Third Young Man : It was the shock of my life when I heard the old man was going to have a wet wedding. Rabid prohibitionist, you know.

Fourth Young Man : ( Snapping his fingers excitedly ) By gad! I knew I’d forgotten something. Kept thinking it was my vest.

Dick : What was it?

Fourth Young Man : By gad! By gad!

Sixth Young Man : Here! Here! Why the tragedy?

Second Young Man : What’d you forget? The way home?

Dick : ( Maliciously ) He forgot the plot for his book of Harvard stories.

Fourth Young Man : No, sir, I forgot the present, by George! I forgot to buy old Anthony a present. I kept putting it off and putting it off, and by gad I’ve forgotten it! What’ll they think?

Sixth Young Man : ( Facetiously ) That’s probably what’s been holding up the wedding.

( The Fourth Young Man looks nervously at his watch. Laughter. )

Fourth Young Man : By gad! What an ass I am!

Second Young Man : What d’you make of the bridesmaid who thinks she’s Nora Bayes? Kept telling me she wished this was a ragtime wedding. Name’s Haines or Hampton.

Dick : ( Hurriedly spurring his imagination ) Kane, you mean, Muriel Kane. She’s a sort of debt of honor, I believe. Once saved Gloria from drowning, or something of the sort.

Second Young Man : I didn’t think she could stop that perpetual swaying long enough to swim. Fill up my glass, will you? Old man and I had a long talk about the weather just now.

Maury : Who? Old Adam?

Second Young Man : No, the bride’s father. He must be with a weather bureau.

Dick : He’s my uncle, Otis.

Otis : Well, it’s an honorable profession. ( Laughter. )

Sixth Young Man : Bride your cousin, isn’t she?

Dick : Yes, Cable, she is.

Cable : She certainly is a beauty. Not like you, Dicky. Bet she brings old Anthony to terms.

Maury : Why are all grooms given the title of “old”? I think marriage is an error of youth.

Dick : Maury, the professional cynic.

Maury : Why, you intellectual faker!

Fifth Young Man : Battle of the highbrows here, Otis. Pick up what crumbs you can.

Dick : Faker yourself! What do you know?

Maury : What do you know?

Lick : Ask me anything. Any branch of knowledge.

Maury : All right. What’s the fundamental principle of biology?

Dick : You don’t know yourself.

Maury : Don’t hedge!

Dick : Well, natural selection?

Maury : Wrong.

Dick : I give it up.

Maury : Ontogony recapitulates phyllogony.

Fifth Young Man : Take your base!

Maury : Ask you another. What’s the influence of mice on the clover crop? ( Laughter. )

Fourth Young Man : What’s the influence of rats on the Decalogue?

Maury : Shut up, you saphead. There is a connection.

Dick : What is it then?

Maury : ( Pausing a moment in growing disconcertion ) Why, let’s see. I seem to have forgotten exactly. Something about the bees eating the clover.

Fourth Young Man : And the clover eating the mice! Haw! Haw!

Maury : ( Frowning ) Let me just think a minute.

Dick : ( Sitting up suddenly ) Listen!

( A volley of chatter explodes in the adjoining room. The six young men arise, feeling at their neckties. )

Dick : ( Weightily ) We’d better join the firing squad. They’re going to take the picture, I guess. No, that’s afterward.

Otis : Cable, you take the ragtime bridesmaid.

Fourth Young Man : I wish to God I’d sent that present.

Maury : If you’ll give me another minute I’ll think of that about the mice.