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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 8, Página 4
Through
this
twilight
world,
Daisy
began
to
move
again
with
the
season;
suddenly,
she
was
again
keeping
many
dates
a
day
with
different
men,
and
falling
asleep
at
dawn
with
the
beads
and
chiffon
of
an
evening
dress
tangled
among
dying
orchids
on
the
floor
beside
her
bed.
And
all
the
time,
something
inside
her
was
crying
for
a
decision.
She
wanted
her
life
shaped
now,
immediately—and
the
decision
had
to
be
made
by
some
force—of
love,
of
money,
of
unquestionable
practicality—that
was
close
at
hand.
That
strong
feeling
appeared
in
the
middle
of
spring
when
Tom
Buchanan
arrived.
He
was
big
and
important,
and
Daisy
felt
pleased
by
him.
There
was
a
mix
of
struggle
and
relief.
The
letter
reached
Gatsby
while
he
was
still
at
Oxford.
It
was
dawn
on
Long
Island,
and
we
opened
the
rest
of
the
windows
downstairs.
The
house
filled
with
light
that
changed
from
gray
to
gold.
A
tree's
shadow
fell
on
the
dew,
and
ghostly
birds
began
to
sing
among
the
blue
leaves.
The
air
moved
slowly
and
pleasantly,
hinting
at
a
cool,
lovely
day.
“I
don’t
think
she
ever
loved
him,”
Gatsby
said,
turning
from
a
window
to
look
at
me
challengingly.
“Remember,
old
sport,
she
was
very
excited
this
afternoon.
He
told
her
things
in
a
way
that
scared
her,
making
me
look
like
some
cheap
trickster.
So
she
hardly
knew
what
she
was
saying.”
He
sat
down,
looking
gloomy.
“Maybe
she
loved
him
for
a
minute
when
they
first
married—and
loved
me
more
even
then,
do
you
see?”
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El Gran Gatsby — B1 Inglés | Cuentana