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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 4, Página 10
We
crossed
the
great
bridge,
with
sunlight
flickering
through
the
girders
onto
the
moving
cars,
as
the
city
rose
across
the
river
like
white
heaps
and
sugar
cubes
built
with
dream
money.
The
city
seen
from
the
Queensboro
Bridge
always
feels
like
seeing
it
for
the
first
time,
with
all
its
mystery
and
beauty.
A
hearse
full
of
flowers
passed
us,
followed
by
two
carriages
with
closed
blinds
and
more
cheerful
carriages
for
friends.
The
friends
looked
at
us
with
sad
eyes
and
short
upper
lips
of
southeastern
Europe,
and
I
was
glad
they
saw
Gatsby's
splendid
car
on
their
somber
day.
As
we
crossed
Blackwell's
Island,
a
limousine
with
a
white
chauffeur
passed
us,
carrying
three
stylish
black
people,
two
men
and
a
woman.
I
laughed
as
their
eyes
rolled
toward
us
in
proud
competition.
"Anything
can
happen
now
that
we've
crossed
this
bridge,"
I
thought;
"anything
at
all..."
Even
Gatsby
could
happen,
without
any
particular
wonder.
It
was
noon.
In
a
cool,
well-ventilated
cellar
on
Forty-second
Street,
I
met
Gatsby
for
lunch.
Blinking
away
the
brightness
from
outside,
I
spotted
him
in
the
anteroom,
talking
to
another
man.
"Mr.
Carraway,
this
is
my
friend
Mr.
Wolfshiem."
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El Gran Gatsby — B1 Inglés | Cuentana