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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 3, Página 26
He
hesitated.
"No
harm
in
trying,"
he
said.
The
blaring
horns
had
reached
a
peak,
and
I
turned
away,
cutting
across
the
lawn
toward
home.
I
glanced
back
once.
A
sliver
of
moon
was
shining
over
Gatsby’s
house,
making
the
night
as
beautiful
as
before,
and
surviving
the
laughter
and
the
sound
of
his
still
glowing
garden.
A
sudden
emptiness
seemed
to
flow
from
the
windows
and
the
great
doors,
isolating
the
figure
of
the
host,
who
stood
on
the
porch,
his
hand
raised
in
a
formal
gesture
of
farewell.
Reading
over
what
I’ve
written
so
far,
I
see
I’ve
given
the
impression
that
the
events
of
three
nights,
several
weeks
apart,
were
all
that
occupied
me.
In
fact,
they
were
just
casual
events
in
a
busy
summer,
and
until
much
later,
they
interested
me
far
less
than
my
personal
affairs.
Most
of
the
time,
I
worked.
In
the
early
morning,
the
sun
cast
my
shadow
westward
as
I
hurried
down
the
white
canyons
of
lower
New
York
to
the
Probity
Trust.
I
knew
the
other
clerks
and
young
bond-salesmen
by
their
first
names
and
had
lunch
with
them
in
dark,
crowded
restaurants
on
little
pig
sausages,
mashed
potatoes,
and
coffee.
I
even
had
a
brief
affair
with
a
girl
who
lived
in
Jersey
City
and
worked
in
the
accounting
department,
but
her
brother
started
giving
me
dirty
looks,
so
when
she
went
on
vacation
in
July,
I
let
it
quietly
end.
I
usually
had
dinner
at
the
Yale
Club—for
some
reason,
it
was
the
gloomiest
part
of
my
day—and
then
I
went
upstairs
to
the
library
and
studied
investments
and
securities
for
an
hour.
There
were
usually
a
few
rowdy
people
around,
but
they
never
came
into
the
library,
so
it
was
a
good
place
to
work.
After
that,
if
the
night
was
pleasant,
I
walked
down
Madison
Avenue
past
the
old
Murray
Hill
Hotel,
and
over
33rd
Street
to
Pennsylvania
Station.
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El Gran Gatsby — B2 Inglés | Cuentana