At least once a fortnight a corps of cate

o<a title="f Queens, and then s" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%9c%94www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%98%85%ec%9e%a5%ec%95%88%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90+%ea%b0%95%ed%99%94%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">f Queens, and the</a>n sank down himselfinto eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes,dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun and rain, brood on overthe solemn dumping ground.The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, andwhen the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers onwaiti<a title="ng trains can star" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%8b%a0%eb%a6%bc%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9e%8awww.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%86%97%ec%88%98%ec%a0%95%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%98%9c%ec%98%81%eb%93%b1%ed%8f%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">ng trains ca</a><br>n stare at the dismal scene for as long as half anhour. There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it wasbecause of this that I first met Tom Buchanan's mistress.The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known. Hisacquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popularrestaurants with her and, l<a title="eaving her at a tabl" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%88%98%ec%a0%95%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%9c%8f%ec%95%95%ea%b5%ac%ec%a0%95%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%99%8b%ec%a4%91%ea%b5%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">eaving her at a table, s</a>auntered about,chatting with whomsoever he knew. Though I was curious to see her Ihad no desire to meet her--but I did. I went up to New York with Tom onthe train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumpedto his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from thecar."We're getting off!" he<a title=" insisted. "I want " href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%98%82www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9c%8f%eb%b6%80%ec%b2%9c%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%98%80%ec%98%81%eb%93%b1%ed%8f%ac%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank"> insisted. "I</a><br> want you to meet my girl."I think he'd tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination tohave my company bordered on violence. The supercilious assumption was thaton Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to do.I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walkedback a hundred yards along the road under <a title="Doctor Ecklebu" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%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">Doctor Eckleburg</a>'s persistentstare. The only building in sight was a small block of yellow bricksitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Streetministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing. One of thethree shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-nightrestaurant approached by a trail of ashes; th<a title="e third was agarag" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ea%b5%90%eb%8c%80%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%8fwww.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%86%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%9c%8f%ec%88%98%ec%98%81%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">e third was </a><br>agarage--Repairs. GEORGE B. WILSON. Cars Bought and Sold--and I followedTom inside.The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car visible was thedust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner. It hadoccurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and thatsumptuous and romantic apartments were conc<a title="ealed overhead" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%eb%b6%84%eb%8b%b9%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%86%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%98%80%ec%95%88%ec%82%b0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ealed overhead </a>when theproprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his handson a piece of waste. He was a blonde, spiritless man, anaemic, andfaintly handsome. When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into hislight blue eyes."Hello, Wilson, old man," said Tom, slapping him jovially on theshoulder. "How's business?""I can<a title="'t complain," " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%86%97pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%9d%87%ec%9e%a5%ec%95%88%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8+%eb%b6%80%ed%8f%89%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">'t complain," </a>answered Wilson unconvincingly. "When are you goingto sell me that car?""Next week; I've got my man working on it now.""Works pretty slow, don't he?""No, he doesn't," said Tom coldly. "And if you feel that way about it,maybe I'd better sell it somewhere else after all.""I don't mean that," explained Wilson quickly. "I just me<a title="ant----"His voic" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%8b%a0%eb%a6%bc%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%97%80www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%82%ec%84%b1%eb%82%a8%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%86%97%ec%9c%a0%ec%84%b1%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ant----"His voic</a>e faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage. ThenI heard footsteps on a stairs and in a moment the thickish figure of awoman blocked out the light from the office door. She was in the middlethirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuouslyas some women can. Her face, above a spotted dre<a title="ss of dark bluecrepe-d" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%84%b1%eb%82%a8%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%98%9cpukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%a5%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%98%80%ec%9d%b4%ec%b2%9c%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ss of dark bluecre</a>pe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty but there was animmediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her bodywere continually smouldering. She smiled slowly and walking through herhusband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush inthe eye. Then she wet her lips and without<a title=" turning around s" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%99%8fpukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%80%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9d%84%ec%88%98%ec%98%81%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank"> turning around spoke</a> to herhusband in a soft, coarse voice:"Get some chairs, why don't you, so somebody can sit down.""Oh, sure," agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office,mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls. A white ashendust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything inthe vicinity<br><a title="--except his wif" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%eb%b6%84%eb%8b%b9%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%86%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%98%80%ec%95%88%ec%82%b0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">--except his </a><br>wife, who moved close to Tom."I want to see you," said Tom intently. "Get on the next train.""All right.""I'll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level."She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilsonemerged with two chairs from his office door.We waited for her down the road and out of sight. It was a few days b<br><a title="eforethe Fourth o" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%86%8c%ec%82%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc+pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9d%a4%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%9d%84%ea%b8%88%ec%a0%95%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">eforethe Fourth of July,</a> and a grey, scrawny Italian child was settingtorpedoes in a row along the railroad track."Terrible place, isn't it," said Tom, exchanging a frown with DoctorEckleburg."Awful.""It does her good to get away.""Doesn't her husband object?""Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New York. He's so dumbhe doesn't<br><a title=" know he's alive."" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%93www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%85%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9d%87%ec%9c%a0%ec%84%b1%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank"> know he's alive."</a>So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up together to New York--or notquite together, for Mrs. Wilson sat discreetly in another car. Tomdeferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might beon the train.She had changed her dress to a brown figured muslin which stretchedtight over her rather wide hips a<a title="s Tom helped her to the " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%8b%a0%eb%a6%bc%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%99%8bpukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%8b%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%98%82%ec%86%8c%ec%82%ac%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">s Tom helped her to th</a><br>e platform inNew York. At the news-stand she bought a copy of "Town Tattle" and amoving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold creamand a small flask of perfume. Upstairs, in the solemn echoing driveshe let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one,lavender-colored with grey upholster<br><a title="y, and in this we slid o" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ea%b5%90%eb%8c%80%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%9d%a4pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%82%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%99%93%ea%b4%91%ec%a3%bc%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">y, and in this we sli</a>d out from themass of the station into the glowing sunshine. But immediately sheturned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on thefront glass."I want to get one of those dogs," she said earnestly. "I want to get onefor the apartment. They're nice to have--a dog."We backed up to a grey old man who bore an <a title="absurd