1 They were out in the open at last and Gatsby was content.
2 The drawing-room curtains were open, and I saw that the room was empty.
3 Making a short deft movement Tom Buchanan broke her nose with his open hand.
4 Under the dripping bare lilac trees a large open car was coming up the drive.
5 Throwing open the French windows of the drawing-room we sat smoking out into the darkness.
6 Tom flung open the door, blocked out its space for a moment with his thick body, and hurried into the room.
7 He was now decently clothed in a "sport shirt" open at the neck, sneakers and duck trousers of a nebulous hue.
8 For a while the door of the office was open and everyone who came into the garage glanced irresistibly through it.
9 I tried four times; finally an exasperated central told me the wire was being kept open for long distance from Detroit.
10 Crossing his lawn I saw that his front door was still open and he was leaning against a table in the hall, heavy with dejection or sleep.
11 He went out to the open vestibule and sat down on a folding-chair, and the station slid away and the backs of unfamiliar buildings moved by.
12 The mouth was wide open and ripped at the corners as though she had choked a little in giving up the tremendous vitality she had stored so long.
13 Her glance left me and sought the lighted top of the steps where "Three o'Clock in the Morning," a neat, sad little waltz of that year, was drifting out the open door.
14 At first I thought it was another party, a wild rout that had resolved itself into "hide-and-go-seek" or "sardines-in-the-box" with all the house thrown open to the game.
15 Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips the two young women preceded us out onto a rosy-colored porch open toward the sunset where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished wind.
16 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.
17 Michaelis and this man reached her first but when they had torn open her shirtwaist still damp with perspiration, they saw that her left breast was swinging loose like a flap and there was no need to listen for the heart beneath.
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