Gatsby turned to me rigidly:

“I can't say anything in his house, old sport.”

“She's got an indiscreet voice,” I remarked. “It's full of — — ”

I hesitated.

“Her voice is full of money,” he said suddenly.

That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money — that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals' song of it� . High in a white palace the king's daughter, the golden girl� .

Tom came out of the house wrapping a quart bottle in a towel, followed by Daisy and Jordan wearing small tight hats of metallic cloth and carrying light capes over their arms.