The Gatsby MansionGatsby stood in the door of his large mansion. The last guest had finally left, after becoming sober enough to notice the time. Gatsby turned and shut the door softly. The hall was a mess. In truth, it wasnt, but when compared to the usual grandeur and cleanliness of the Gatsby Mansion, the damage was immense. He stepped slowly forward, stopped, and then began to walk again at a steady pace. The house was empty, this section anyway, surely the maids were already working on cleaning the kitchen or sweeping up the broken wine glass in the library, the red liquid had no doubt stained the carpet, hed buy a new one tomorrow.He passed a painting on the way, the piece was tilted on its nail and he reached to tilt it back without looking. He rounded a corner and almost ran into a flustered maid carrying a pile of dress shirts. She asked his forgiveness with a shaky voice and he dismissed her with a nod. He wandered aimlessly for an hour, taking note of the condition of every room.