""Oh, that's all right," he said carelessly. "I

b<a title="rothel and saloon" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%98%80pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4+%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90+%ec%9d%b8%ec%b2%9c%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">rothel and sal</a><br>oon. It was indirectly due toCody that Gatsby drank so little. Sometimes in the course of gay partieswomen used to rub champagne into his hair; for himself he formed thehabit of letting liquor alone.And it was from Cody that he inherited money--a legacy of twenty-fivethousand dollars. He didn't get it. He never understood the legaldevice that was used agains<a title="t him but what " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%eb%8f%84%ea%b3%a1%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%98%85pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%8f%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%9d%a4%ec%97%b0%ec%88%98%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">t him but wha</a><br>t remained of the millionswent intact to Ella Kaye. He was left with his singularly appropriateeducation; the vague contour of Jay Gatsby had filled out to thesubstantiality of a man.He told me all this very much later, but I've put it down here with theidea of exploding those first wild rumors about his antecedents, whichweren't even faintly true. Moreover h<br><a title="e told it to me at" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ea%b0%95%eb%82%a8%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%9d%87pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%9d%a4%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%9d%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%a0%95%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">e told it to me at a t</a><br>ime ofconfusion, when I had reached the point of believing everything andnothing about him. So I take advantage of this short halt, whileGatsby, so to speak, caught his breath, to clear this set ofmisconceptions away.It was a halt, too, in my association with his affairs. Forseveral weeks I didn't see him or hear his voice on the phone--mostlyI was i<a title="n New York, trott" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%95%95%ea%b5%ac%ec%a0%95%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9d%84%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9d%87%ea%b3%84%ec%96%91%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">n New York, trottin</a><br>g around with Jordan and trying toingratiate myself with her senile aunt--but finally I went over tohis house one Sunday afternoon. I hadn't been there two minutes whensomebody brought Tom Buchanan in for a drink. I was startled,naturally, but the really surprising thing was that it hadn't happenedbefore.They were a party of three on horseback--Tom and <br><a title="a man named Sloane anda " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%eb%b6%80%ec%b2%9c%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%98%82www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%93%ec%84%b1%ec%88%98%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%86%97%eb%b6%80%ec%82%b0%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">a man named Sloa</a><br>ne anda pretty woman in a brown riding habit who had been there previously."I'm delighted to see you," said Gatsby standing on his porch."I'm delighted that you dropped in."As though they cared!"Sit right down. Have a cigarette or a cigar." He walked around the roomquickly, ringing bells. "I'll have something to drink for you in justa minute."He was profou<a title="ndly affected by the fa" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ea%b1%b4%eb%8c%80%ec%9e%85%ea%b5%ac%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%97%80pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%93%ea%b0%95%eb%82%a8%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94+%ea%b0%95%ed%99%94%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">ndly affected by </a>the fact that Tom was there. But he would beuneasy anyhow until he had given them something, realizing in a vagueway that that was all they came for. Mr. Sloane wanted nothing. Alemonade? No, thanks. A little champagne? Nothing at all,thanks. . . . I'm sorry----"Did you have a nice ride?""Very good roads around here.""I suppose the automobiles----""Yeah."<br><a title="Moved by an i" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ea%b0%95%eb%82%a8%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%98%85pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%85%eb%8f%84%ea%b3%a1%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%8b%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">Moved by an ir</a><br>resistible impulse, Gatsby turned to Tom who had acceptedthe introduction as a stranger."I believe we've met somewhere before, Mr. Buchanan.""Oh, yes," said Tom, gruffly polite but obviously not remembering."So we did. I remember very well.""About two weeks ago.""That's right. You were with Nick here.""I know your wife," continued Gatsby, almost aggressively<br><a title="."That so?"Tom t" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9e%8a%ec%88%98%ec%84%9c%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%98%9c%ec%9d%80%ed%8f%89%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">."That so?"Tom turned </a><br>to me."You live near here, Nick?""Next door.""That so?"Mr. Sloane didn't enter into the conversation but lounged back haughtilyin his chair; the woman said nothing either--until unexpectedly, aftertwo highballs, she became cordial."We'll all come over to your next party, Mr. Gatsby," she suggested."What do you say?""Certainly. I'd be delighted to hav<a title="e you.""Be ver' " href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%88%98%ec%a0%95%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%86%97www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4+%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%86%97%ea%b6%8c%ec%84%a0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">e you.""Be ver' nice</a>," said Mr. Sloane, without gratitude. "Well--think ought tobe starting home.""Please don't hurry," Gatsby urged them. He had control of himself nowand he wanted to see more of Tom. "Why don't you--why don't you stay forsupper? I wouldn't be surprised if some other people dropped in fromNew York.""You come to supper with ME," said the lady enthusiastic<a title="ally."Both of you" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%88%98%ec%a0%95%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%86%97www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4+%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%86%97%ea%b6%8c%ec%84%a0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ally."Both of you."T</a><br>his included me. Mr. Sloane got to his feet."Come along," he said--but to her only."I mean it," she insisted. "I'd love to have you. Lots of room."Gatsby looked at me questioningly. He wanted to go and he didn't seethat Mr. Sloane had determined he shouldn't."I'm afraid I won't be able to," I said."Well, you come," she urged, concentrating on Gatsby.Mr<br><a title=". Sloane murmure" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%93www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%93%ec%84%b1%ec%88%98%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%98%9c%ec%96%91%ec%b2%9c%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">. Sloane murmured somet</a><br>hing close to her ear."We won't be late if we start now," she insisted aloud."I haven't got a horse," said Gatsby. "I used to ride in the army butI've never bought a horse. I'll have to follow you in my car. Excuse mefor just a minute."The rest of us walked out on the porch, where Sloane and the lady beganan impassioned conversation aside."My God, I<a title=" believe the man's com" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ea%b1%b4%eb%8c%80%ec%9e%85%ea%b5%ac%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%97%86pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com+%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%9d%84%eb%8f%99%eb%8c%80%eb%ac%b8%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank"> believe the </a>man's coming," said Tom. "Doesn't he know shedoesn't want him?""She says she does want him.""She has a big dinner party and he won't know a soul there." He frowned."I wonder where in the devil he met Daisy. By God, I may beold-fashioned in my ideas, but women run around too much these days tosuit me. They meet all kinds of crazy fish."Suddenly Mr. Sloane and <br><a title="the lady wal" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%98%a5%ec%88%98%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%99%8fwww.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com+%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9c%94%ec%84%b1%eb%b6%81%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">the lady walked d</a><br>own the steps and mountedtheir horses."Come on," said Mr. Sloane to Tom, "we're late. We've got to go." And thento me: "Tell him we couldn't wait, will you?"Tom and I shook hands, the rest of us exchanged a cool nod andthey trotted quickly down the drive, disappearing under the Augustfoliage just as Gatsby with hat and light overcoat in hand came outthe f<br><a title="ront door.Tom was evid" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%9e%a5%ec%95%88%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9d%87www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%8f%ec%88%98%ec%a0%95%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9c%8f%ec%9d%b8%ec%b2%9c%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ront door.Tom was evi</a><br>dently perturbed at Daisy's running around alone, for on thefollowing Saturday night he came with her to Gatsby's party. Perhapshis presence gave the evening its peculiar quality of oppressiveness--itstands out in my memory from Gatsby's other parties that summer. Therewere the same people, or at least the same sort of people, the sameprofusion of cha<a title="mpagne, the same" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%9d%87www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%93%ec%88%98%ec%84%9c%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%99%8f%ec%88%98%ec%98%81%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">mpagne, the same </a><br>many-colored, many-keyed commotion,but I felt an unpleasantness in the air, a pervading harshness thathadn't been there before. Or perhaps I had merely grown used to it,grown to accept West Egg as a world complete in itself, with its ownstandards and its own great figures, second to nothing because it hadno consciousness of being so, and now I was looking<a title=" at it again,through D" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%98%80pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%86%97%eb%b6%80%ec%b2%9c%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%98%82%ea%b0%95%eb%82%a8%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank"> at it again,through D</a>aisy's eyes. It is invariably saddening to look through neweyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers ofadjustment.They arrived at twilight and as we strolled out among the sparklinghundreds Daisy's voice was playing murmurous tricks in her throat."These things excite me SO," she whispered. "If you want to kiss meany time during the <br><a title="eveni