“I thought everybody knew.”“Why ——” she said hesitantly, “Tom’s got some woman in New York.”“She might have the decency not to telephone him at dinner time. "I'll tell you a family secret," she whispered enthusiastically. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. There’s a bird on the lawn that I think must be a nightingale come over on the Cunard or White Star Line. That was a way she had. The instant her voice broke off, ceasing to compel my attention, When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness. "I haven't heard a word." objected Daisy, frowning. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction — Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby follows Jay Gatsby, a man who orders his life around one desire: to be reunited with Daisy Buchanan, the love he lost five years earlier. There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked — and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.” We were in the same senior society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.“I’ve got a nice place here,” he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.Turning me around by one arm, he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep, pungent roses, and a snub-nosed motor-boat that bumped the tide offshore.“It belonged to Demaine, the oil man.” He turned me around again, politely and abruptly.
She hesitated. "Did you give Nick a little heart to heart talk on the veranda?" And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament.”— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. Levity - humour or frivolity, especially the treatment of a serious matter with humour or in a manner lacking due respect. ‘all right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. “He reads deep books with long words in them.
I told him. The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise--she leaned slightly The butler came back and murmured something close to Tom's ear “In two weeks it’ll be the longest day in the year.” She looked at us all radiantly. And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the Tom Buchanan who had been hovering restlessly about the room stopped "To be continued," she said, tossing the magazine on the table, "in our The murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted excitedly, and then ceased altogether.“This Mr. Gatsby you spoke of is my neighbor ——” I said.“You mean to say you don’t know?” said Miss Baker, honestly surprised. Square They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. As I started my motor Daisy peremptorily called: “Wait!”“I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. What was that word we ——”“Well, these books are all scientific,” insisted Tom, glancing at her impatiently. 4. Who is Jordan Baker? 5. They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. Besides, Nick's Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at every one, and yet to avoid all eyes.
The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm To-morrow!” Then she added irrelevantly: “You ought to see the baby.”“She’s asleep. “In fact I think I’ll arrange a marriage. She looked at me absently. “I’ve gotten to be a terrible pessimist about things. We additionally provide variant types and moreover type of the books to browse. Do you want to hear about the butler’s nose?”“Well, he wasn’t always a butler; he used to be the silver polisher for some people in New York that had a silver service for two hundred people. They then analyse an extract from the first chapter as a platform discussing Tom Buchanan and also ideas of East and West. This was untrue. "Listen, Nick; let me tell you what Good night, Mr. Carraway. “I’d be a God damned fool to live anywhere else.”At this point Miss Baker said: “Absolutely!” with such suddenness that I started — it was the first word she uttered since I came into the room. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. cried Daisy with tense gayety. Our white girlhood was passed together there. Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart.Already it was deep summer on roadhouse roofs and in front of wayside garages, where new red gas-pumps sat out in pools of light, and when I reached my estate at West Egg I ran the car under its shed and sat for a while on an abandoned grass roller in the yard. Let’s go back, Tom.