1 He had changed since his New Haven years.
2 "Why, no," I answered, rather surprised by his tone.
3 "I've got a nice place here," he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.
4 Tom Buchanan who had been hovering restlessly about the room stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.
5 As if his absence quickened something within her Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
6 "You ought to live in California--" began Miss Baker but Tom interrupted her by shifting heavily in his chair.
7 There was something pathetic in his concentration as if his complacency, more acute than of old, was not enough to him any more.
8 There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked--and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.
9 Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward.
10 The butler came back and murmured something close to Tom's ear whereupon Tom frowned, pushed back his chair and without a word went inside.
11 Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction--Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn.
12 We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.
13 Before I could reply that he was my neighbor dinner was announced; wedging his tense arm imperatively under mine Tom Buchanan compelled me from the room as though he were moving a checker to another square.
14 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.
15 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.
16 His family were enormously wealthy--even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach--but now he'd left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he'd brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest.
17 Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body--he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat.
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