1 The grey windows disappeared as the house glowed full of light.
2 Throwing open the French windows of the drawing-room we sat smoking out into the darkness.
3 Tom stopped beside the porch and looked up at the second floor where two windows bloomed with light among the vines.
4 The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house.
5 In one of the windows over the garage the curtains had been moved aside a little and Myrtle Wilson was peering down at the car.
6 I looked at the house: there were two or three bright windows downstairs and the pink glow from Daisy's room on the second floor.
7 We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end.
8 A little before three the Lutheran minister arrived from Flushing and I began to look involuntarily out the windows for other cars.
9 The room was large and stifling, and, though it was already four o'clock, opening the windows admitted only a gust of hot shrubbery from the Park.
10 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.
11 A maid began opening the upper windows of his house, appeared momentarily in each, and, leaning from a large central bay, spat meditatively into the garden.
12 Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.
13 Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering.
14 A sudden emptiness seemed to flow now from the windows and the great doors, endowing with complete isolation the figure of the host who stood on the porch, his hand up in a formal gesture of farewell.
15 The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch.
16 Gatsby looked with vacant eyes through a copy of Clay's "Economics," starting at the Finnish tread that shook the kitchen floor and peering toward the bleared windows from time to time as if a series of invisible but alarming happenings were taking place outside.
17 At the enchanted metropolitan twilight I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--poor young clerks who loitered in front of windows waiting until it was time for a solitary restaurant dinner--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.
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