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El Gran Gatsby
Capítulo 9, Página 27
“Tom,”
I
inquired,
“what
did
you
say
to
Wilson
that
afternoon?”
He
stared
at
me
without
a
word,
and
I
knew
I
had
guessed
right
about
those
missing
hours.
I
started
to
turn
away,
but
he
took
a
step
after
me
and
grabbed
my
arm.
“I
told
him
the
truth,”
he
said.
“He
came
to
the
door
while
we
were
getting
ready
to
leave,
and
when
I
sent
down
word
that
we
weren’t
in
he
tried
to
force
his
way
upstairs.
He
was
crazy
enough
to
kill
me
if
I
hadn’t
told
him
who
owned
the
car.
His
hand
was
on
a
revolver
in
his
pocket
every
minute
he
was
in
the
house—”
He
broke
off
defiantly.
“What
if
I
did
tell
him?
That
fellow
had
it
coming
to
him.
He
threw
dust
into
your
eyes
just
like
he
did
in
Daisy’s,
but
he
was
a
tough
one.
He
ran
over
Myrtle
like
you’d
run
over
a
dog
and
never
even
stopped
his
car.”
There
was
nothing
I
could
say,
except
the
one
unutterable
fact
that
it
wasn’t
true.
“And
if
you
think
I
didn’t
have
my
share
of
suffering—look
here,
when
I
went
to
give
up
that
flat
and
saw
that
damn
box
of
dog
biscuits
sitting
there
on
the
sideboard,
I
sat
down
and
cried
like
a
baby.
By
God
it
was
awful—”
I
couldn’t
forgive
him
or
like
him,
but
I
saw
that
what
he
had
done
was,
to
him,
entirely
justified.
It
was
all
very
careless
and
confused.
They
were
careless
people,
Tom
and
Daisy—they
smashed
up
things
and
creatures
and
then
retreated
back
into
their
money
or
their
vast
carelessness,
or
whatever
it
was
that
kept
them
together,
and
let
other
people
clean
up
the
mess
they
had
made…
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El Gran Gatsby — C1 Inglés | Cuentana