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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 9, Página 28
I
shook
hands
with
him;
it
felt
silly
not
to,
because
I
suddenly
felt
like
I
was
talking
to
a
child.
Then
he
went
into
the
jewelry
store
to
buy
a
pearl
necklace—or
maybe
just
some
cuff
buttons—free
from
my
worries
forever.
Gatsby’s
house
was
still
empty
when
I
left—the
grass
on
his
lawn
was
as
long
as
mine.
A
taxi
driver
in
the
village
never
passed
the
gate
without
stopping
to
point
inside;
maybe
he
drove
Daisy
and
Gatsby
to
East
Egg
the
night
of
the
accident,
and
maybe
he
made
up
a
story
about
it.
I
didn’t
want
to
hear
it,
so
I
avoided
him
when
I
got
off
the
train.
I
spent
my
Saturday
nights
in
New
York
because
those
bright,
exciting
parties
of
his
were
still
in
my
mind.
I
could
still
hear
the
music
and
laughter
from
his
garden,
and
the
cars
on
his
drive.
One
night
I
heard
a
real
car
there
and
saw
its
lights
stop
at
his
front
steps.
But
I
didn’t
check.
Maybe
it
was
a
last
guest
who
didn’t
know
the
party
was
over.
On
the
last
night,
with
my
trunk
packed
and
my
car
sold
to
the
grocer,
I
went
to
look
at
that
big,
confusing
house
once
more.
On
the
white
steps,
a
bad
word,
written
by
a
boy
with
a
brick,
was
clear
in
the
moonlight.
I
erased
it
with
my
shoe.
Then
I
walked
down
to
the
beach
and
lay
on
the
sand.
Most
of
the
big
shore
houses
were
closed
now,
and
there
were
hardly
any
lights
except
for
a
ferryboat's
glow
across
the
Sound.
As
the
moon
rose
higher,
the
houses
seemed
to
disappear
until
I
saw
the
old
island
that
once
amazed
Dutch
sailors—a
fresh,
green
land
of
the
new
world.
Its
trees,
now
gone
for
Gatsby’s
house,
once
whispered
to
the
greatest
dreams;
for
a
short,
magical
moment,
people
must
have
held
their
breath
in
front
of
this
continent,
drawn
into
a
beauty
they
didn’t
understand,
facing
something
as
wonderful
as
their
dreams.
As
I
sat
there
thinking
about
the
old,
unknown
world,
I
thought
of
Gatsby’s
wonder
when
he
first
saw
the
green
light
at
the
end
of
Daisy’s
dock.
He
had
come
a
long
way
to
this
blue
lawn,
and
his
dream
must
have
seemed
so
close.
He
didn’t
know
it
was
already
behind
him,
somewhere
back
in
the
darkness
beyond
the
city,
where
the
dark
fields
of
the
republic
stretched
under
the
night.
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El Gran Gatsby — A2 Inglés | Cuentana