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107
El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 4, Página 29
It
was
dark
now,
and
as
we
dipped
under
a
little
bridge
I
put
my
arm
around
Jordan’s
golden
shoulder
and
drew
her
toward
me
and
asked
her
to
dinner.
Suddenly
I
wasn’t
thinking
of
Daisy
and
Gatsby
anymore,
but
of
this
clean,
hard,
limited
person,
who
dealt
in
universal
skepticism,
and
who
leaned
back
jauntily
just
within
the
circle
of
my
arm.
A
phrase
began
to
beat
in
my
ears
with
a
sort
of
heady
excitement:
“There
are
only
the
pursued,
the
pursuing,
the
busy,
and
the
tired.”
“And
Daisy
ought
to
have
something
in
her
life,”
murmured
Jordan
to
me.
“Does
she
want
to
see
Gatsby?”
“She’s
not
to
know
about
it.
Gatsby
doesn’t
want
her
to
know.
You’re
just
supposed
to
invite
her
to
tea.”
We
passed
a
barrier
of
dark
trees,
and
then
the
façade
of
Fifty-Ninth
Street,
a
block
of
delicate
pale
light,
beamed
down
into
the
park.
Unlike
Gatsby
and
Tom
Buchanan,
I
had
no
girl
whose
disembodied
face
floated
along
the
dark
cornices
and
blinding
signs,
and
so
I
drew
up
the
girl
beside
me,
tightening
my
arms.
Her
wan,
scornful
mouth
smiled,
and
so
I
drew
her
up
again
closer,
this
time
to
my
face.
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El Gran Gatsby — B1 Inglés | Cuentana