1 Then Mr. McKee turned and continued on out the door.
2 Mr. McKee awoke from his doze and started in a daze toward the door.
3 Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door.
4 They came to the door with me and stood side by side in a cheerful square of light.
5 Fifty feet from the door a dozen headlights illuminated a bizarre and tumultuous scene.
6 She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door.
7 They got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island and somehow they ended up at Gatsby's door.
8 As I waited for my hat in the hall the door of the library opened and Jordan Baker and Gatsby came out together.
9 She was hurrying off as she talked--her brown hand waved a jaunty salute as she melted into her party at the door.
10 The crowd--it was now a crowd--stepped back involuntarily and when the door had opened wide there was a ghostly pause.
11 Then I heard footsteps on a stairs and in a moment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door.
12 Just as Tom and Myrtle--after the first drink Mrs. Wilson and I called each other by our first names--reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door.
13 Every Friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer in New York--every Monday these same oranges and lemons left his back door in a pyramid of pulpless halves.
14 On a chance we tried an important-looking door, and walked into a high Gothic library, panelled with carved English oak, and probably transported complete from some ruin overseas.
15 Sometimes, in my mind, I followed them to their apartments on the corners of hidden streets, and they turned and smiled back at me before they faded through a door into warm darkness.
16 It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste.
17 The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens--finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run.
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