1 There was a long silence on the other end of the wire, followed by an exclamation.
2 It was the only compliment I ever gave him, because I disapproved of him from beginning to end.
3 However, as calmness wasn't an end in itself I made an excuse at the first possible moment and got to my feet.
4 When I was a young man it was different--if a friend of mine died, no matter how, I stuck with them to the end.
5 We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end.
6 There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the fresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other.
7 Involuntarily I glanced seaward--and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock.
8 So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen-year-old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end.
9 And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock.
10 He had been full of the idea so long, dreamed it right through to the end, waited with his teeth set, so to speak, at an inconceivable pitch of intensity.
11 They were sitting at either end of the couch looking at each other as if some question had been asked or was in the air, and every vestige of embarrassment was gone.
12 She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless and with her chin raised a little as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall.
13 Tom and Miss Baker sat at either end of the long couch and she read aloud to him from the "Saturday Evening Post"--the words, murmurous and uninflected, running together in a soothing tune.
14 No--Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.
15 They had never been closer in their month of love nor communicated more profoundly one with another than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.
16 A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling--and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
17 At first I was surprised and confused; then, as he lay in his house and didn't move or breathe or speak hour upon hour it grew upon me that I was responsible, because no one else was interested--interested, I mean, with that intense personal interest to which every one has some vague right at the end.
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