Memory Palace Summer Reading: The Great Gatsby, part 3
the memory palace
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Is It Hot?
The next day was broiling, almost the last, certainly the warmest of the summer. At noon, the straw seats of the car hovered on the edge of combustion. The woman next to me perspired delicately for a while into her white shirt waist and then lapsed despairingly into deep heat. Gadsby stood in the centere of the crimson carpet and gazed around with fascinated eyes. Daisy watched him and laughed her sweet, excited laugh. A tiny gust of powder rose from her bosom into the air.
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