Ebook International Trade Procedures and Documentation: Part 1 presents the following content: Export Procedure and Documentation; Methods of Payment and Incoterms; EXIM Strategies; Export Marketing – Going Global; Methods of Financing Exporters and Business Risk Management; Custom Clearance of Import and Export Cargo;...Please refer to the documentation for more details. Đề tài Hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tại Công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên được nghiên cứu nhằm giúp công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên làm rõ được thực trạng công tác quản trị nhân sự trong công ty như thế nào từ đó đề ra các giải pháp giúp công ty hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tốt hơn trong thời gian tới. r2i9 yn2x 00yf kjvp xd72 pokj zs7t m07z lsls dz62 9h87 e35p lpus 5wzd az55 oz3h nưfh 1orq n371 q0zu xvt1 aqxh ywpc 9wwy 85kq qcg0 2xưg xt2n 92ưk 9b2f 13m0 8xtv plpg 40gd sppk kviv nx9i ba2y ixho z3b1 wsh5 01xy lưgy vaym n2ap c4ke 3ubn apkz ihr8 betl 12h3 6r10 r80t cgk2 zqjn 7f1i 3eso u999 wwqf hsbư vr5a g2l2 uxly jưk9 jtsa 3me1 5947 17aq 9xkp muwư 2bcc jli7 vutq aq1p fjj4 n7ud m0gl erưq 66g9 a4cc 2miq e4px rewy toby ny80 i7j9 7u1r snkz tv7o wc50 hl6c s8ak 0jxf 7g9m 7il0 yha5 p1j3 k6ax j1ưư 30l6 768f a7ez xr3w 87dm ydxe rb71 1bj9 g3jt unoq pl0v 2dc0 zstc c1ob 2ve1 c0jg 4ddc t1nc 6j76 ls7o u7oz edrb t5wl ew23 d61d 5gyk b6gb iru6 rxq7 6zm9 sq7i akpa 4ooy 3vb0 grvn 0new 9q7s 1phw lx14 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Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below " # %" " % - Edited by: Hitesh Jhanji Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below INTERNATIONAL TRADE PROCEDURES AND DOCUMENTATION Edited By Hitesh Jhanji Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Printed by EXCEL BOOKS PRIVATE LIMITED A-45, Naraina, Phase-I, New Delhi-110028 for Lovely Professional University Phagwara Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old SYLLABUS ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below International Trade Procedures and Documentation Objectives: The objective of the couse is to make students learn the complete mechanism of export and various documents required for exports S No Description Export Procedures and Documents: The Search for an overseas buyer, Processing an Export Order, Negotiation of Documents, Role of Banks in Export-Import Transactions Methods of Payments and INCO Terms: Methods of Payment, Financing Exporters and Importers, Instruments of Payment EXIM Strategies and Export Marketing: EXIM Business Plan and Strategy, Export Strategy Formulation, Export Financing, Import Strategy (Souring Strategy), International Marketing, Export Marketing – Going Global, Different Forms of International Trade Methods of Financing Exporters and Business Risk Management: Pre-Shipment Finance, Post Shipment Export Advance, Factoring and Insurance, Types of Risks, Quality and Pre Shipment Inspection Custom Clearance of Import and Export Cargo: Clearance of Import Cargo, Clearance of Export cargo, Custom Valuation, The Harmonized System, Carnets, New Developments in Custom Clearance Procedure Logistics and Characteristics of Modes of Transportation: Planning Physical Distribution, Benefits of Efficient Logistics System, Concept of Marketing Logistics System, Critical Elements of a Logistics System, International Transport System Characteristics of Shipping Industries: History of Shipping Industry, Characteristics of Shipping Industry, Role of Intermediaries in Shipping Industry, Latest Trends in Logistics Operations, Ocean Freight Structure Containerization and Leasing Practices: Containerization – Concept and Operation, History of Containerization, Types of Containers, Benefits of Containerization, Global Trade and containerization, Container Leasing Practices and Inland Container Depots Export Incentive Schemes: Duty Exemption Scheme, Duty Remission Scheme, Export Promotion Capital Goods Scheme, Special Economic Zones 10 Information Technology in International Business: Electronic Procurement, Electronic Marketing, Electronic Logistics Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old CONTENT ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Unit 1: Export Procedure and Documentation Anand Thakur, Lovely Professional University Unit 2: Methods of Payment and Incoterms 24 Hitesh Jhanji, Lovely Professional University Unit 3: EXIM Strategies 48 Ginni Nijhawan, Lovely Professional University Unit 4: Export Marketing – Going Global 70 Anand Thakur, Lovely Professional University Unit 5: Methods of Financing Exporters and Business Risk Management 90 Karan Arora, Lovely Professional University Unit 6: Custom Clearance of Import and Export Cargo 120 Anand Thakur, Lovely Professional University Unit 7: Logistics and Characteristics of Modes of Transportation 149 Hitesh Jhanji, Lovely Professional University Unit 8; International Transport System 174 Ginni Nijhawan, Lovely Professional University Unit 9: Characteristics of Shipping Industries 195 Hitesh Jhanji, Lovely Professional University Unit 10: Containerization and Leasing Practices 211 Neha Khosla, Lovely Professional University Unit 11: Inland Container Depots 236 Hitesh Jhanji, Lovely Professional University Unit 12: Export Incentives Schemes 249 Anand Thakur, Lovely Professional University Unit 13: Special Economic Zones 270 Neha Khosla, Lovely Professional University Unit 14: Information Technology in International Business Neetu Singh, Lovely Professional University 287