This Side of Paradise F. Scott Fitzgerald (mini ebook reader .txt) đ
- Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
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And then?
RosalindThen after that you make him talk about himself. Pretty soon he thinks of nothing but being alone with youâ âhe sulks, he wonât fight, he doesnât want to playâ âVictory!
Enter Dawson Ryder, twenty-six, handsome, wealthy, faithful to his own, a bore perhaps, but steady and sure of success.
RyderI believe this is my dance, Rosalind.
RosalindWell, Dawson, so you recognize me. Now I know I havenât got too much paint on. Mr. Ryder, this is Mr. Gillespie.
They shake hands and Gillespie leaves, tremendously downcast.
RyderYour party is certainly a success.
RosalindIs itâ âI havenât seen it lately. Iâm wearyâ âDo you mind sitting out a minute?
RyderMindâ âIâm delighted. You know I loathe this ârushingâ idea. See a girl yesterday, today, tomorrow.
RosalindDawson!
RyderWhat?
RosalindI wonder if you know you love me.
RyderStartled. Whatâ âOhâ âyou know youâre remarkable!
RosalindBecause you know Iâm an awful proposition. Anyone who marries me will have his hands full. Iâm meanâ âmighty mean.
RyderOh, I wouldnât say that.
RosalindOh, yes, I amâ âespecially to the people nearest to me. She rises. Come, letâs go. Iâve changed my mind and I want to dance. Mother is probably having a fit.
Exeunt. Enter Alec and Cecelia.
CeceliaJust my luck to get my own brother for an intermission.
AlecGloomily. Iâll go if you want me to.
CeceliaGood heavens, noâ âwith whom would I begin the next dance? Sighs. Thereâs no color in a dance since the French officers went back.
AlecThoughtfully. I donât want Amory to fall in love with Rosalind.
CeceliaWhy, I had an idea that that was just what you did want.
AlecI did, but since seeing these girlsâ âI donât know. Iâm awfully attached to Amory. Heâs sensitive and I donât want him to break his heart over somebody who doesnât care about him.
CeceliaHeâs very good looking.
AlecStill thoughtfully. She wonât marry him, but a girl doesnât have to marry a man to break his heart.
CeceliaWhat does it? I wish I knew the secret.
AlecWhy, you cold-blooded little kitty. Itâs lucky for some that the Lord gave you a pug nose.
Enter Mrs. Connage.
Mrs. ConnageWhere on earth is Rosalind?
AlecBrilliantly. Of course youâve come to the best people to find out. Sheâd naturally be with us.
Mrs. ConnageHer father has marshalled eight bachelor millionaires to meet her.
AlecYou might form a squad and march through the halls.
Mrs. ConnageIâm perfectly seriousâ âfor all I know she may be at the Coconut Grove with some football player on the night of her dĂ©but. You look left and Iâllâ â
AlecFlippantly. Hadnât you better send the butler through the cellar?
Mrs. ConnagePerfectly serious. Oh, you donât think sheâd be there?
CeceliaHeâs only joking, mother.
AlecMother had a picture of her tapping a keg of beer with some high hurdler.
Mrs. ConnageLetâs look right away.
They go out. Rosalind comes in with Gillespie.
GillespieRosalindâ âOnce more I ask you. Donât you care a blessed thing about me?
Amory walks in briskly.
AmoryMy dance.
RosalindMr. Gillespie, this is Mr. Blaine.
GillespieIâve met Mr. Blaine. From Lake Geneva, arenât you?
AmoryYes.
GillespieDesperately. Iâve been there. Itâs in theâ âthe Middle West, isnât it?
AmorySpicily. Approximately. But I always felt that Iâd rather be provincial hot-tamale than soup without seasoning.
GillespieWhat!
AmoryOh, no offense.
Gillespie bows and leaves.
RosalindHeâs too much people.
AmoryI was in love with a people once.
RosalindSo?
AmoryOh, yesâ âher name was Isabelleâ ânothing at all to her except what I read into her.
RosalindWhat happened?
AmoryFinally I convinced her that she was smarter than I wasâ âthen she threw me over. Said I was critical and impractical, you know.
RosalindWhat do you mean impractical?
AmoryOhâ âdrive a car, but canât change a tire.
RosalindWhat are you going to do?
AmoryCanât sayâ ârun for President, writeâ â
RosalindGreenwich Village?
AmoryGood heavens, noâ âI said writeâ ânot drink.
RosalindI like businessmen. Clever men are usually so homely.
AmoryI feel as if Iâd known you for ages.
RosalindOh, are you going to commence the âpyramidâ story?
AmoryNoâ âI was going to make it French. I was Louis XIV and you were one of myâ âmyâ âChanging his tone. Supposeâ âwe fell in love.
RosalindIâve suggested pretending.
AmoryIf we did it would be very big.
RosalindWhy?
AmoryBecause selfish people are in a way terribly capable of great loves.
RosalindTurning her lips up. Pretend.
Very deliberately they kiss.
AmoryI canât say sweet things. But you are beautiful.
RosalindNot that.
AmoryWhat then?
RosalindSadly. Oh, nothingâ âonly I want sentiment, real sentimentâ âand I never find it.
AmoryI never find anything else in the worldâ âand I loathe it.
RosalindItâs so hard to find a male to gratify oneâs artistic taste.
Someone has opened a door and the music of a waltz surges into the room. Rosalind rises.
RosalindListen! theyâre playing âKiss Me Again.â
He looks at her.
AmoryWell?
RosalindWell?
AmorySoftlyâ âthe battle lost. I love you.
RosalindI love youâ ânow.
They kiss.
AmoryOh, God, what have I done?
RosalindNothing. Oh, donât talk. Kiss me again.
AmoryI donât know why or how, but I love youâ âfrom the moment I saw you.
RosalindMe tooâ âIâ âIâ âoh, tonightâs tonight.
Her brother strolls in, starts and then in a loud voice says: âOh, excuse me,â and goes.
RosalindHer lips scarcely stirring. Donât let me goâ âI donât care who knows what I do.
AmorySay it!
RosalindI love youâ ânow. They part. Ohâ âI am very youthful, thank Godâ âand rather beautiful, thank Godâ âand happy, thank God, thank Godâ âShe pauses and then, in an odd burst of prophecy, adds. Poor Amory!
He kisses her again.
Kismet
Within two weeks Amory and Rosalind were deeply and passionately in love. The critical qualities which had spoiled for each of them a dozen romances were dulled by the great wave of emotion that washed over them.
âIt may be an insane love-affair,â she told her anxious mother, âbut itâs not inane.â
The wave swept Amory into an advertising agency early in March, where he alternated between astonishing bursts of rather exceptional work and wild dreams
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