""You mean your wife bought it?""She had

b<a title="eard of raw ivy, and" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%eb%b6%84%eb%8b%b9%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%98%85www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9e%8a%ea%b8%88%ed%98%b8%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%97%80%ec%98%a4%ec%82%b0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">eard of raw ivy, and a m</a>arble swimming pooland more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby's mansion.Or rather, as I didn't know Mr. Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited bya gentleman of that name. My own house was an eye-sore, but it was asmall eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of thewater, a partial view of my neighbor's lawn, and th<br><a title="e consolingproxim" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%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">e consolingpr</a>oximity of millionaires--all for eighty dollars a month.Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Eggglittered along the water, and the history of the summer really beginson the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the TomBuchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I'd known Tomin college. And just after the wa<a title="r I spent two days with " href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ea%b5%90%eb%8c%80%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%86%97pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%86%97%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%98%80%eb%8f%84%eb%b4%89%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">r I spent two days</a> with them inChicago.Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one ofthe most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven--anational figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acutelimited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors ofanti-climax. His family were enormously wealthy--even in coll<a title="ege hisfreedom with m" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%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">ege hisfreedom wit</a><br>h money was a matter for reproach--but now he'd left Chicagoand come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: forinstance he'd brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest.It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthyenough to do that.Why they came east I don't know. They had spent a year in France, for n<br><a title="oparticular reason, and" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%95%95%ea%b5%ac%ec%a0%95%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%99%93www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%9d%a4%eb%b6%80%ec%b2%9c%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94+%ec%9d%80%ed%8f%89%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">oparticular reason, and</a> then drifted here and there unrestfully whereverpeople played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move,said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn't believe it--I had no sightinto Daisy's heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seekinga little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverablefootball game.And <br><a title="so it happened th" 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">so it happened that on</a> a warm windy evening I drove over to EastEgg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house waseven more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red and white GeorgianColonial mansion overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beachand ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping oversun-dials and brick walks a<br><a title="nd burning gardens--f" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%84%b1%ec%88%98%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%86%97www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%9c%94%eb%8f%84%ea%b3%a1%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9d%87%eb%b6%80%ed%8f%89%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">nd burning gardens--fina</a>lly when it reachedthe house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from themomentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows,glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windyafternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with hislegs apart on the front porch.He had changed since his Ne<a title="w Haven year" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%99%a5%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%98%82%ec%97%b0%ec%a0%9c%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">w Haven years. Now he </a><br>was a sturdy, straw hairedman of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner.Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face andgave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Noteven the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormouspower of that body--he seemed to fill those g<a title="listening boots until " href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%84%b1%eb%82%a8%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9e%8apukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%99%93%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%97%80%ea%b3%bc%ec%b2%9c%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">listening boots until </a>hestrained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscleshifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a bodycapable of enormous leverage--a cruel body.His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression offractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt init, even toward people he liked--<a title="and there were men" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%82%ac%eb%8b%b9%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%9d%87pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com+%ec%96%91%ec%9e%ac%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%98%82%eb%8f%84%eb%b4%89%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">and there we</a>re men at New Haven who hadhated his guts."Now, don't think my opinion on these matters is final," he seemed tosay, "just because I'm stronger and more of a man than you are." Wewere in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate Ialways had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to likehim with some harsh, defiant wistfulnes<br><a title="s of his own.We talk" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%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">s of his own.We tal</a>ked for a few minutes on the sunny porch."I've got a nice place here," he said, his eyes flashing aboutrestlessly.Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along thefront vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a halfacre of deep pungent roses and a snub-nosed motor boat that bumpedthe tide off shore."It belonged to <a title="Demaine the oil m" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%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">Demaine the oil m</a>an." He turned me around again,politely and abruptly. "We'll go inside."We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space,fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end.The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grassoutside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breezeblew through the ro<a title="om, blew curta" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%eb%8f%99%ec%9e%91%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8+pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%97%86%eb%b6%84%eb%8b%b9%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%9e%8a%ec%95%88%ec%82%b0%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">om, blew curtains in </a>at one end and out the otherlike pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake ofthe ceiling--and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making ashadow on it as wind does on the sea.The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couchon which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchoredballoon. T<a title="hey were both in wh" 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">hey were both in w</a>hite and their dresses were rippling andfluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flightaround the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to thewhip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall.Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caughtwind died out about the r<a title="oom