1 Then I turned back to Gatsby--and was startled at his expression.
2 I tried to show by my expression that I had played no part in her past.
3 Before I could answer her eyes fastened with an awed expression on her little finger.
4 "Tom's getting very profound," said Daisy with an expression of unthoughtful sadness.
5 He looked out the window at it, but judging from his expression I don't believe he saw a thing.
6 The familiar expression held no more familiarity than the hand which reassuringly brushed my shoulder.
7 But evidently he was not addressing me for he dropped my hand and covered Gatsby with his expressive nose.
8 She must have seen something of this in my expression for she turned abruptly away and ran up the porch steps into the house.
9 I lived at West Egg, the--well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them.
10 Daisy looked at Tom frowning and an indefinable expression, at once definitely unfamiliar and vaguely recognizable, as if I had only heard it described in words, passed over Gatsby's face.
11 I knew now why her face was familiar--its pleasing contemptuous expression had looked out at me from many rotogravure pictures of the sporting life at Asheville and Hot Springs and Palm Beach.
12 As I went over to say goodbye I saw that the expression of bewilderment had come back into Gatsby's face, as though a faint doubt had occurred to him as to the quality of his present happiness.
13 Someone with a positive manner, perhaps a detective, used the expression "mad man" as he bent over Wilson's body that afternoon, and the adventitious authority of his voice set the key for the newspaper reports next morning.
14 Her expression was curiously familiar--it was an expression I had often seen on women's faces but on Myrtle Wilson's face it seemed purposeless and inexplicable until I realized that her eyes, wide with jealous terror, were fixed not on Tom, but on Jordan Baker, whom she took to be his wife.
15 Most of the confidences were unsought--frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon--for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions.