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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 7, Página 4
The
next
day
was
extremely
hot,
almost
the
last
and
definitely
the
hottest
of
the
summer.
As
my
train
came
out
of
the
tunnel
into
the
sunlight,
only
the
whistles
of
the
National
Biscuit
Company
broke
the
silence
at
noon.
The
straw
seats
of
the
train
felt
like
they
might
catch
fire.
The
woman
next
to
me
sweated
lightly
in
her
white
blouse,
and
when
her
newspaper
got
damp,
she
sighed
deeply,
overcome
by
the
heat.
Her
purse
fell
to
the
floor.
“Oh,
my!”
she
gasped.
I
bent
down
tiredly
and
picked
it
up,
holding
it
carefully
to
show
I
didn't
want
it.
But
everyone
nearby,
including
the
woman,
still
looked
at
me
suspiciously.
“Hot!”
said
the
conductor
to
familiar
faces.
“Some
weather!
Hot!
Hot!
Hot!
Is
it
hot
enough
for
you?
Is
it
hot?”
My
ticket
came
back
with
a
dark
stain
from
his
hand.
In
this
heat,
who
cared
whose
lips
he
kissed
or
whose
head
made
his
pocket
wet?
A
faint
breeze
blew
through
the
hall
of
the
Buchanans’
house,
carrying
the
sound
of
the
phone
bell
to
Gatsby
and
me
as
we
waited
at
the
door.
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El Gran Gatsby — B1 Inglés | Cuentana