Gatsby, pale as death,
with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes. (Francis Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby)
Gatsby, pale as death,
with his hands plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water glaring tragically into my eyes. (Francis Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby)
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