1 But all the rest of that's a God Damned lie.
2 He rested for a moment against the pump, shading his eyes.
3 I didn't hear the rest of the name because I hung up the receiver.
4 Jordan's fingers, powdered white over their tan, rested for a moment in mine.
5 But the rest offended her--and inarguably, because it wasn't a gesture but an emotion.
6 With Jordan's slender golden arm resting in mine we descended the steps and sauntered about the garden.
7 Tom Buchanan who had been hovering restlessly about the room stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.
8 The rest of us walked out on the porch, where Sloane and the lady began an impassioned conversation aside.
9 But evidently the sound of it pleased Gatsby for Tom remained "the polo player" for the rest of the evening.
10 To the young Gatz, resting on his oars and looking up at the railed deck, the yacht represented all the beauty and glamor in the world.
11 It was dawn now on Long Island and we went about opening the rest of the windows downstairs, filling the house with grey turning, gold turning light.
12 After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and the next day, only as an endless drill of police and photographers and newspaper men in and out of Gatsby's front door.
13 The tears coursed down her cheeks--not freely, however, for when they came into contact with her heavily beaded eyelashes they assumed an inky color, and pursued the rest of their way in slow black rivulets.
14 Tom and I shook hands, the rest of us exchanged a cool nod and they trotted quickly down the drive, disappearing under the August foliage just as Gatsby with hat and light overcoat in hand came out the front door.
15 His head leaned back so far that it rested against the face of a defunct mantelpiece clock and from this position his distraught eyes stared down at Daisy who was sitting frightened but graceful on the edge of a stiff chair.
16 The other car, the one going toward New York, came to rest a hundred yards beyond, and its driver hurried back to where Myrtle Wilson, her life violently extinguished, knelt in the road and mingled her thick, dark blood with the dust.
17 Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
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