"You two start on home, Daisy, In Mr. Gatsby's car."
"Please, Tom! I can't stand this any more."
Thirty--the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning lost of single men to know, a thinning briefcase of enthusiasm, thinning hair. But there was Jordan beside me, who, unlike Daisy, was too wise ever to carry well-forgotten dreams from age to age.
"It was a yellow car, big yellow car. New."------"No, but the car passed me down the road, going faster'n forty. Going fifty, sixty."
"there was two cars, one comin', one goin', see?"
To Tom: "Auto hit her. Ins'antly killed."----To *pale well dressed negro*: "see the accident?"
To Nick: "I ought to have dropped you in West Egg, Nick. There's nothing we can do to-night."To Nick: "I'll telephone a taxi to take you home, and while you're waiting you and Jordan better go in the Kitchen and have them get you some supper- if you want any."
To Nick: "Won't you come in, Nick?"
To Tom:"No thanks. But I'd be glad if you'd order me the taxi. I'll wait outside."---------------To Jordan: "No thanks."
"Her name was Wilson. Her husband owns the garage. How the devil did it happen?""Was Daisy driving?""It ripped her open-"
"Who was the Woman?""Well, I tried to swing the wheel-""yes...Well first Daisy turned away from the woman toward the other car, and hen she lost her nerve and turned back. The second me hand reached the wheel I felt shock- it must have killed her instantly."
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