I thought you were rather an honest,straightfor

w<br><a title="as any one togive i" 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">as any one togive it </a><br>to if it came. I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn'tbelieve it would come and perhaps he no longer cared. If that was truehe must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a highprice for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked upat an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as hefound wha<br><a title="t a grotesque t" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9d%87pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%86%97%ec%88%98%ec%84%9c%ec%95%88%eb%a7%88%e2%9d%87%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">t a grotesque thing a</a> rose is and how raw the sunlight wasupon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without beingreal, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, driftedfortuitously about . . . like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding towardhim through the amorphous trees.The chauffeur--he was one of Wolfshiem's protégés--heard theshots--<a title="afterward he could only " href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%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">afterward he coul</a>d only say that he hadn't thought anything muchabout them. I drove from the station directly to Gatsby's house and myrushing anxiously up the front steps was the first thing that alarmed anyone. But they knew then, I firmly believe. With scarcely a word said, fourof us, the chauffeur, butler, gardener and I, hurried down to the pool.There<a title=" was a faint, barely p" 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"> was a faint, barely </a>perceptible movement of the water as thefresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other.With little ripples that were hardly the shadows of waves, the ladenmattress moved irregularly down the pool. A small gust of wind thatscarcely corrugated the surface was enough to disturb its accidentalcourse with its accidenta<a title="l burden. The to" 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">l burden. The to</a>uch of a cluster of leavesrevolved it slowly, tracing, like the leg of compass, a thin red circlein the water.It was after we started with Gatsby toward the house that the gardenersaw Wilson's body a little way off in the grass, and the holocaust wascomplete.Chapter 9After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and thene<a title="xt day, only" 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">xt day, only as an end</a>less drill of police and photographers andnewspaper men in and out of Gatsby's front door. A rope stretchedacross the main gate and a policeman by it kept out the curious, butlittle boys soon discovered that they could enter through my yard andthere were always a few of them clustered open-mouthed about the pool.Someone with a positi<a title="ve manner, perhaps " href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9d%a4www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%85%ec%88%98%ec%84%9c%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%97%86%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">ve manner, perhaps </a>a detective, used theexpression "mad man" as he bent over Wilson's body that afternoon, andthe adventitious authority of his voice set the key for the newspaperreports next morning.Most of those reports were a nightmare--grotesque, circumstantial,eager and untrue. When Michaelis's testimony at the inquest brought tolight Wilson's suspic<br><a title="ions of his wif" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ec%98%a5%ec%88%98%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9+www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%82%eb%8f%84%ea%b3%a1%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9c%94%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">ions of his </a><br>wife I thought the whole tale wouldshortly be served up in racy pasquinade--but Catherine, who might havesaid anything, didn't say a word. She showed a surprising amount ofcharacter about it too--looked at the coroner with determined eyes underthat corrected brow of hers and swore that her sister had never seenGatsby, that her sister was compl<a title="etely happy with he" href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%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">etely happy wit</a>h her husband, that hersister had been into no mischief whatever. She convinced herself of itand cried into her handkerchief as if the very suggestion was morethan she could endure. So Wilson was reduced to a man "deranged bygrief" in order that the case might remain in its simplest form. Andit rested there.But all this part of it seemed re<br><a title="mote and unessenti" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%88%98%ec%9b%90%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9d%a4www.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%98%85%ec%88%98%ec%84%9c%eb%a0%88%ea%b9%85%ec%8a%a4%eb%a3%b8%e2%97%86%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">mote and unessenti</a><br>al. I found myself onGatsby's side, and alone. From the moment I telephoned news ofthe catastrophe to West Egg village, every surmise about him, andevery practical question, was referred to me. At first I was surprised andconfused; then, as he lay in his house and didn't move or breathe orspeak hour upon hour it grew upon me that I was r<br><a title="esponsible, because noon" 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">esponsible, beca</a>use noone else was interested--interested, I mean, with that intense personalinterest to which every one has some vague right at the end.I called up Daisy half an hour after we found him, called herinstinctively and without hesitation. But she and Tom had gone awayearly that afternoon, and taken baggage with them."Left no address?""No.""Sa<a title="y when they'd be back" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%86%97pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4+%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9c%94%ec%95%88%ec%84%b1%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank">y when they'd</a> be back?""No.""Any idea where they are? How I could reach them?""I don't know. Can't say."I wanted to get somebody for him. I wanted to go into the room where helay and reassure him: "I'll get somebody for you, Gatsby. Don't worry.Just trust me and I'll get somebody for you----"Meyer Wolfshiem's name wasn't in the phone book. The butler gave<br><a title=" me hisoffice" href="https://thebridge.in/search?search=%ec%84%9c%ec%b4%88%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc%e2%86%97pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4+%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%ec%a3%bc%ec%a0%90%e2%9c%94%ec%95%88%ec%84%b1%ec%86%8c%ed%94%84%ed%8a%b8%eb%a3%b8  " target="_blank"> me hisoffice a</a>ddress on Broadway and I called Information, but by the time Ihad the number it was long after five and no one answered the phone."Will you ring again?""I've rung them three times.""It's very important.""Sorry. I'm afraid no one's there."I went back to the drawing room and thought for an instant that they werechance visitors, all these offi<br><a title="cial people who sud" href="https://pims.edu/?s=%ea%b5%90%eb%8c%80%ed%9c%b4%ea%b2%8c%ed%85%94%e2%99%8fwww.pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7%ec%bb%b4%e2%86%97%ec%9a%a9%ec%82%b0%ec%85%94%ec%b8%a0%eb%a3%b8%e2%9c%94%ec%96%91%ec%b2%9c%ea%b1%b4%eb%a7%88  " target="_blank">cial people who sudden</a><br>ly filled it. Butas they drew back the sheet and looked at Gatsby with unmoved eyes,his protest continued in my brain."Look here, old sport, you've got to get somebody for me. You've gotto try hard. I can't go through this alone."Some one started to ask me questions but I broke away and going upstairslooked hastily through the unlock<a title="ed parts of his " href="https://www.indifferentlanguages.com/words/%ec%95%88%ec%96%91%ed%92%80%ec%82%b4%eb%a1%b1%e2%9d%a4pukpuk1%eb%8b%b7com%e2%97%80%ea%b0%95%eb%82%a8%ed%82%a4%ec%8a%a4%eb%b0%a9%e2%98%9c%ed%8c%94%eb%8b%ac%ec%98%a4%ed%94%bc  " target="_blank">ed parts of his desk-</a>-he'd never told medefinitely that his parents were dead. But there was nothing--only thepicture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence staring down fromthe wall.Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfshiemwhich asked for information and urged him to come out on the nexttrain. That request seemed superfluo<a title="us w