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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 8, Página 2
“Go
to
Atlantic
City
for
a
week,
or
up
to
Montreal.”
He
wouldn’t
consider
it.
He
couldn’t
possibly
leave
Daisy
until
he
knew
what
she
was
going
to
do.
He
was
clutching
at
some
last
hope
and
I
couldn’t
bear
to
shake
him
free.
It
was
this
night
that
he
told
me
the
strange
story
of
his
youth
with
Dan
Cody—told
it
to
me
because
“Jay
Gatsby”
had
broken
up
like
glass
against
Tom’s
hard
malice,
and
the
long
secret
extravaganza
was
played
out.
I
think
that
he
would
have
acknowledged
anything
now,
without
reserve,
but
he
wanted
to
talk
about
Daisy.
She
was
the
first
“nice”
girl
he
had
ever
known.
In
various
unrevealed
capacities
he
had
come
in
contact
with
such
people,
but
always
with
indiscernible
barbed
wire
between.
He
found
her
excitingly
desirable.
He
went
to
her
house,
at
first
with
other
officers
from
Camp
Taylor,
then
alone.
It
amazed
him—he
had
never
been
in
such
a
beautiful
house
before.
But
what
gave
it
an
air
of
breathless
intensity,
was
that
Daisy
lived
there—it
was
as
casual
a
thing
to
her
as
his
tent
out
at
camp
was
to
him.
There
was
a
ripe
mystery
about
it,
a
hint
of
bedrooms
upstairs
more
beautiful
and
cool
than
other
bedrooms,
of
gay
and
radiant
activities
taking
place
through
its
corridors,
and
of
romances
that
were
not
musty
and
laid
away
already
in
lavender
but
fresh
and
breathing
and
redolent
of
this
year’s
shining
motorcars
and
of
dances
whose
flowers
were
scarcely
withered.
It
excited
him,
too,
that
many
men
had
already
loved
Daisy—it
increased
her
value
in
his
eyes.
He
felt
their
presence
all
about
the
house,
pervading
the
air
with
the
shades
and
echoes
of
still
vibrant
emotions.
But
he
knew
that
he
was
in
Daisy’s
house
by
a
colossal
accident.
However
glorious
might
be
his
future
as
Jay
Gatsby,
he
was
at
present
a
penniless
young
man
without
a
past,
and
at
any
moment
the
invisible
cloak
of
his
uniform
might
slip
from
his
shoulders.
So
he
made
the
most
of
his
time.
He
took
what
he
could
get,
ravenously
and
unscrupulously—eventually
he
took
Daisy
one
still
October
night,
took
her
because
he
had
no
real
right
to
touch
her
hand.
He
might
have
despised
himself,
for
he
had
certainly
taken
her
under
false
pretences.
I
don’t
mean
that
he
had
traded
on
his
phantom
millions,
but
he
had
deliberately
given
Daisy
a
sense
of
security;
he
let
her
believe
that
he
was
a
person
from
much
the
same
strata
as
herself—that
he
was
fully
able
to
take
care
of
her.
As
a
matter
of
fact,
he
had
no
such
facilities—he
had
no
comfortable
family
standing
behind
him,
and
he
was
liable
at
the
whim
of
an
impersonal
government
to
be
blown
anywhere
about
the
world.
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El Gran Gatsby — C1 Inglés | Cuentana