The Great Gatsby

everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew
from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes too, he stared around at his
possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding
presence none of it was any longer real. Once he nearly toppled down a
flight of stairs.

His bedroom was the simplest room of all—except where the dresser was
garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold. Daisy took the brush
with delight, and smoothed her hair, whereupon Gatsby sat down and
shaded his eyes and began to laugh.

“It’s the funniest thing, old sport,” he said hilariously. “I
can’t—When I try to—”

He had passed visibly through two states and was entering upon a
third. After his embarrassment and his unreasoning joy he was consumed
with wonder at her presence. He had been full of the idea so long,
dreamed it right through to the end, waited with his teeth set, so to
speak, at an inconceivable pitch of intensity. Now, in the reaction,
he was running down like an over-wound clock.

Recovering himself in a minute he opened for us two hulking patent
cabinets which held his massed suits and dressing-gowns and ties, and
his shirts, piled like bricks in stacks a dozen high.