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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 8, Página 11
We
talked
like
that
for
a
while,
and
then
suddenly
we
weren’t
talking
anymore.
I
don’t
know
who
hung
up
with
a
sharp
click,
but
I
didn’t
care.
I
couldn’t
have
talked
to
her
over
tea
that
day
if
I
never
spoke
to
her
again
in
this
world.
I
called
Gatsby’s
house
a
few
minutes
later,
but
the
line
was
busy.
I
tried
four
times;
finally,
an
annoyed
operator
told
me
the
line
was
being
kept
open
for
a
long-distance
call
from
Detroit.
I
took
out
my
timetable
and
circled
the
three-fifty
train.
Then
I
leaned
back
in
my
chair
and
tried
to
think.
It
was
just
noon.
When
I
passed
the
ash-heaps
on
the
train
that
morning,
I
had
crossed
to
the
other
side
of
the
car.
I
thought
there’d
be
a
curious
crowd
there
all
day
with
little
boys
searching
for
dark
spots
in
the
dust
and
some
talkative
man
repeating
what
happened
until
it
became
less
real
even
to
him,
and
he
could
tell
it
no
longer,
and
Myrtle
Wilson’s
tragic
story
was
forgotten.
Now
I
want
to
go
back
a
little
and
tell
what
happened
at
the
garage
after
we
left
there
the
night
before.
They
had
trouble
finding
her
sister,
Catherine.
She
must
have
broken
her
rule
against
drinking
that
night
because
when
she
arrived,
she
was
drunk
and
couldn’t
understand
that
the
ambulance
had
already
gone
to
Flushing.
When
they
convinced
her,
she
fainted,
as
if
that
was
the
worst
part
of
it.
Someone,
kind
or
curious,
took
her
in
his
car
and
drove
her
after
her
sister’s
body.
Until
late
at
night,
people
gathered
outside
the
garage.
Inside,
George
Wilson
sat
on
the
couch,
rocking
back
and
forth.
The
office
door
was
open
for
a
while,
and
everyone
who
entered
the
garage
couldn't
help
but
look
inside.
Eventually,
someone
said
it
was
a
shame
and
closed
the
door.
Michaelis
and
a
few
other
men
stayed
with
him;
first,
four
or
five
men,
then
just
two
or
three.
Later,
Michaelis
asked
the
last
man
to
wait
for
fifteen
more
minutes
while
he
went
home
to
make
coffee.
After
that,
he
stayed
with
Wilson
until
morning.
Around
three
o'clock,
Wilson's
unclear
mumbling
changed.
He
became
quieter
and
started
talking
about
the
yellow
car.
He
said
he
had
a
way
to
find
out
who
owned
it.
Then
he
suddenly
said
that
a
few
months
ago,
his
wife
came
back
from
the
city
with
bruises
on
her
face
and
a
swollen
nose.
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El Gran Gatsby — B1 Inglés | Cuentana