"And she doesn't understand," he said. "She use

t<a title="riedto go I became ent" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%a5pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%9d%84%ec%8b%a0%ec%82%ac%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%9c%8f%eb%b6%80%ec%82%b0%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">riedto go I b</a>ecame entangled in some wild strident argument which pulled meback, as if with ropes, into my chair. Yet high over the city our line ofyellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to thecasual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up andwondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelledby the inexhaustible variety of<a title=" life.Myrtle pulled" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%9d%a4pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%a5%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9d%84%ed%99%94%ec%84%b1%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank"> life.Myrtle pull</a>ed her chair close to mine, and suddenly her warm breathpoured over me the story of her first meeting with Tom."It was on the two little seats facing each other that are always thelast ones left on the train. I was going up to New York to see mysister and spend the night. He had on a dress suit and patent leathershoes and I couldn't keep my eyes off him but every time he looked a<br><a title="tme I had to " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ea%b1%b4%eb%8c%80%ec%9e%85%ea%b5%ac%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9d%84www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%97%86%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%86%97%ec%98%b9%ec%a7%84%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">tme I had to pretend to</a><br> be looking at the advertisement over his head.When we came into the station he was next to me and his whiteshirt-front pressed against my arm--and so I told him I'd have to calla policeman, but he knew I lied. I was so excited that when I got intoa taxi with him I didn't hardly know I wasn't getting into a subwaytrain. All I kept thinking about, over and over, was 'You can<a title="'t liveforever, you" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc+pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%80%ea%b1%b4%eb%8c%80%ec%9e%85%ea%b5%ac%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+%eb%85%b8%ec%9b%90%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">'t liveforever, </a>you can't live forever.' "She turned to Mrs. McKee and the room rang full of her artificiallaughter."My dear," she cried, "I'm going to give you this dress as soon as I'mthrough with it. I've got to get another one tomorrow. I'm going tomake a list of all the things I've got to get. A massage and a waveand a collar for the dog and one of those cute little ash-trays whereyou touch <br><a title="a spring, and a wreath w" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%8f%ec%84%b1%eb%82%a8%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8+%ec%84%b1%eb%8f%99%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">a spring, and a</a> wreath with a black silk bow for mother'sgrave that'll last all summer. I got to write down a list so I won'tforget all the things I got to do."It was nine o'clock--almost immediately afterward I looked at my watchand found it was ten. Mr. McKee was asleep on a chair with his fistsclenched in his lap, like a photograph of a man of action. Taking out myhandkerchief I wiped from his<a title=" cheek the re" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9e%8apukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9c%94%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%99%93%eb%8f%99%eb%8c%80%eb%ac%b8%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank"> cheek the rema</a>ins of the spot of driedlather that had worried me all the afternoon.The little dog was sitting on the table looking with blind eyes throughthe smoke and from time to time groaning faintly. People disappeared,reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other,searched for each other, found each other a few feet away. Some timetoward midnight Tom Buchanan and Mrs. Wils<a title="on stood face to face" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%eb%8f%84%ea%b3%a1%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%98%82pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%93%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%99%a5%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">on stood face to facedis</a>cussing in impassioned voices whether Mrs. Wilson had any right tomention Daisy's name."Daisy! Daisy! Daisy!" shouted Mrs. Wilson. "I'll say it whenever I wantto! Daisy! Dai----"Making a short deft movement Tom Buchanan broke her nose with hisopen hand.Then there were bloody towels upon the bathroom floor, and women'svoices scolding, and high over the confusion a long brok<a title="en wail ofpain. Mr. McK" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9e%8apukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9c%94%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%99%93%eb%8f%99%eb%8c%80%eb%ac%b8%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">en wail ofpain. Mr.</a> McKee awoke from his doze and started in a daze toward the door.When he had gone half way he turned around and stared at the scene--hiswife and Catherine scolding and consoling as they stumbled here andthere among the crowded furniture with articles of aid, and thedespairing figure on the couch bleeding fluently and trying to spreada copy of "Town Tattle" over the tapestry sce<br><a title="nes of Versa" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ea%b1%b4%eb%8c%80%ec%9e%85%ea%b5%ac%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%97%86pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com+%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%9d%a4%ec%9d%b8%ec%b2%9c%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">nes of Versailles.Then</a><br> Mr. McKee turned and continued on out the door. Taking my hat fromthe chandelier I followed."Come to lunch some day," he suggested, as we groaned down in theelevator."Where?""Anywhere.""Keep your hands off the lever," snapped the elevator boy."I beg your pardon," said Mr. McKee with dignity, "I didn't know I wastouching it.""All right," I agreed, "I'll be glad to.". . . I w<a title="as standing beside his" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%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">as standing besid</a><br>e his bed and he was sitting up between thesheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands."Beauty and the Beast . . . Loneliness . . . Old Grocery Horse . . .Brook'n Bridge . . . ."Then I was lying half asleep in the cold lower level of the PennsylvaniaStation, staring at the morning "Tribune" and waiting for the fouro'clock train.Chapter 3There was music from<br><a title=" my neighbor's house" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%84%b1%eb%82%a8%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%86%97www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%97%80%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%9c%94%ec%9d%98%ec%a0%95%eb%b6%80%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank"> my neighbor's house t</a><br>hrough the summer nights. Inhis blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among thewhisperings and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in theafternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft ortaking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boatsslit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts offoam. On week-ends<a title=" his Rolls-Royce became" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%98%a4%ea%b8%88%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%97%80pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%80%eb%b6%80%ec%b2%9c%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90+%ec%98%b9%ec%a7%84%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank"> his Rolls-Royce be</a>came an omnibus, bearing partiesto and from the city, between nine in the morning and long pastmidnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug tomeet all trains. And on Mondays eight servants including an extragardener toiled all day with mops and scrubbing-brushes and hammersand garden-shears, repairing the ravages of the night before.Every Friday five crat<br><a title="es of oranges and lem" 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">es of oranges and lemon</a><br>s arrived from a fruitererin New York--every Monday these same oranges and lemons left his backdoor in a pyramid of pulpless halves. There was a machine in thekitchen which could extract the juice of two hundred oranges in half anhour, if a little button was pressed two hundred times by a butler'sthumb.At least once a fortnight a corps of caterers came down with severalhund<a title="red feet o