F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Great Gatsby “I like your dress,” remarked Mrs. McKee, “I think it‟s
adorable.” Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment by raising her
eyebrow in disdain. “It‟s just a crazy old thing,” she said. “I just slip it on
sometimes when I don‟t care what I look like.” “But it looks wonderful on you, if you know what I mean,”
pursued Mrs. McKee. “If Chester could only get you in that pose I think he could make something of it.” We all looked in silence at Mrs. Wilson, who removed a
strand of hair from over her eyes and looked back at us with a brilliant smile. Mr. McKee regarded her intently with his head on one side, and then moved his hand back and forth slowly in front of his face. “I should change the light,” he said after a moment. “I‟d like
to bring out the modelling of the features. And I‟d try to get hold of all the back hair.” “I wouldn‟t think of changing the light,” cried Mrs. McKee.
“I think it‟s ——” Her husband said “SH!” and we all looked at the subject
again, whereupon Tom Buchanan yawned audibly and got to his feet.