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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 8, Página 17
“She’s
a
deep
one,”
said
Wilson,
as
if
that
answered
the
question.
“Ah-h-h—”
He
began
to
rock
again,
and
Michaelis
stood
twisting
the
leash
in
his
hand.
“Maybe
you
got
some
friend
that
I
could
telephone
for,
George?”
This
was
a
forlorn
hope—he
was
almost
sure
that
Wilson
had
no
friend:
there
was
not
enough
of
him
for
his
wife.
He
was
glad
a
little
later
when
he
noticed
a
change
in
the
room,
a
blue
quickening
by
the
window,
and
realized
that
dawn
wasn’t
far
off.
About
five
o’clock
it
was
blue
enough
outside
to
snap
off
the
light.
Wilson’s
glazed
eyes
turned
out
to
the
ash-heaps,
where
small
grey
clouds
took
on
fantastic
shapes
and
scurried
here
and
there
in
the
faint
dawn
wind.
“I
spoke
to
her,”
he
muttered,
after
a
long
silence.
“I
told
her
she
might
fool
me
but
she
couldn’t
fool
God.
I
took
her
to
the
window”—with
an
effort
he
got
up
and
walked
to
the
rear
window
and
leaned
with
his
face
pressed
against
it—“and
I
said
‘God
knows
what
you’ve
been
doing,
everything
you’ve
been
doing.
You
may
fool
me,
but
you
can’t
fool
God!’ ”
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El Gran Gatsby — C1 Inglés | Cuentana