1 Mr. McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below.
2 He was a blonde, spiritless man, anaemic, and faintly handsome.
3 "Hello, Wilson, old man," said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder.
4 "No, it's not exactly a police dog," said the man with disappointment in his voice.
5 It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that.
6 Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man.
7 Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner.
8 "I heard that from a man who knew all about him, grew up with him in Germany," he assured us positively.
9 Mr. McKee was asleep on a chair with his fists clenched in his lap, like a photograph of a man of action.
10 It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.
11 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck.
12 He borrowed somebody's best suit to get married in and never even told me about it, and the man came after it one day when he was out.
13 We were sitting at a table with a man of about my age and a rowdy little girl who gave way upon the slightest provocation to uncontrollable laughter.
14 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.
15 A stout, middle-aged man with enormous owl-eyed spectacles was sitting somewhat drunk on the edge of a great table, staring with unsteady concentration at the shelves of books.
16 The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office suggested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea.
17 As soon as I arrived I made an attempt to find my host but the two or three people of whom I asked his whereabouts stared at me in such an amazed way and denied so vehemently any knowledge of his movements that I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table--the only place in the garden where a single man could linger without looking purposeless and alone.
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