1 My voice seemed unnaturally loud across the garden.
2 As my taxi groaned away I saw Gatsby walking toward me across his lawn.
3 "If it wasn't for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said Gatsby.
4 Gatsby's eyes followed it momentarily; he raised his hand and pointed across the bay.
5 As the waiter brought my change I caught sight of Tom Buchanan across the crowded room.
6 The caterwauling horns had reached a crescendo and I turned away and cut across the lawn toward home.
7 The child, relinquished by the nurse, rushed across the room and rooted shyly into her mother's dress.
8 The shadow of a tree fell abruptly across the dew and ghostly birds began to sing among the blue leaves.
9 As we walked across the moonlight gravel to the porch he disposed of the situation in a few brisk phrases.
10 He was talking intently across the table at her and in his earnestness his hand had fallen upon and covered her own.
11 It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.
12 A damp streak of hair lay like a dash of blue paint across her cheek and her hand was wet with glistening drops as I took it to help her from the car.
13 He lit Daisy's cigarette from a trembling match, and sat down with her on a couch far across the room where there was no light save what the gleaming floor bounced in from the hall.
14 Over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of non-olfactory money.
15 The prolonged and tumultuous argument that ended by herding us into that room eludes me, though I have a sharp physical memory that, in the course of it, my underwear kept climbing like a damp snake around my legs and intermittent beads of sweat raced cool across my back.
16 But with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.
17 The silhouette of a moving cat wavered across the moonlight and turning my head to watch it I saw that I was not alone--fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbor's mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars.
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