What happened to Isaac?

All kinds of luxury cars from New York were parked on the side of the road, and their headlights illuminated the front yard like daylight.Walking into the gate, every decoration is extremely luxurious. I don’t know how much money it takes to pave such a well-maintained lawn; the food on the long table is inexhaustible, and the servant twists the pressure lever vigorously, turning a hundred Oranges turned into orange juice.

Xavier's blond hair and blue eyes are completely in line with American aesthetics. His exquisite clothes and British style have attracted many people from the opposite East Egg Town. Now it is no different from the locals.

There is careless politeness and high-spirited talk here and there, where everyone outwardly despises the Prohibition upstarts and secretly wishes they were selling bottles of liquor as medicinal alcohol in drugstores; there are no women's hands here for Kitchen-born, nothing but well-applied hand cream and nail polish; with short French hair and heavy make-up, they compliment each other, "It doesn't show at all!"

At seven o'clock in the evening, the band arrived and pushed the atmosphere to another peak.Under the seemingly endless hilarity, the violinist suddenly turned to the tango "Por? Una? Cabeza". The melodious tune could hardly suppress the noise of the guests.

At this time, Xavier put down his wine glass, took Isaac's hand, and pulled him to the corner of the lawn.He tiptoed to Isaac's ear, and said with a smile, "Come dance! Honey!"

Gin mixed with the smell of cologne on Isaac, obviously, he was already drunk, otherwise he would never have said the word dear without being shy.

"I can't dance!" said Isaac.

"Don't worry," said Xavier, "Tango—it's easier than life, and it's okay to mess around!"

America is such a luxurious place to pretend to escape the inevitable.Newspapers published Fitzgerald's family carnival short stories, women's perfume, cologne, summer night outdoor swimming pool and champagne bubbles, the sum of all the vain American Dreams after World War I.How long can this grand occasion last, and will it be slower than the last bubble in the wine glass?No one knows.

In the early hours of the morning, some families left first, but the band was still playing, many single men and women were still laughing and chatting, and the sound of diving could be heard from time to time in the swimming pool not far away.

Isaac wanted to wash his face, but just as he left, a waiter came from a distance and whispered in Xavier's ear, "Mr. Xavier, a gentleman is looking for you upstairs."

"Who?" Xavier asked.

The waiter said something, but he didn't hear clearly, holding the remaining half a mouthful of champagne in his hand, he asked, "Judgment? What's the name?... Let's skip it today."

The waiter left, and after a while, he came again and whispered, "The gentleman wants to see you anyway, and he is on the balcony on the second floor."

Xavier frowned: "Please come down by yourself."

Immediately afterwards, he felt someone approaching from behind, the wings were pulled away, a hard object pressed against the back waist, click, the sound of the gun being loaded.

"I'm afraid you will have to, Archangel Langdon Xavier."

The goblet fell to the ground.

The wine and crushed ice splashed out, refracting the sparkling light; across the crowd, twenty feet away, Isaac looked over, his pupils tightened in surprise—in an instant, time, sound, and the ups and downs of the crowd were all here For an instant, they stopped staring at each other.

Boom! ——Boom!

The big drum and snare drum are played at the same time!The trumpeter leaned back flamboyantly while holding the shiny brass horn, and the pianist slammed the keys with electrified passion; the fountain spewed out, and the ribbons exploded in mid-air, falling on the head and shoulders, There was a gleeful shriek from the crowd as Langdon Xavier, a young and promising London businessman, was wheeled up the steps unnoticed.

"Hey! Hey! Langdon!"

Isaac tried his best to push through the crowd, but his voice did not stir up any waves in the crowd, only dissatisfied comments like "crazy" and "who is this?"

They lead Xavier into a room on the second floor.Before the door closed, Isaac almost seemed to jump up from downstairs, he rushed forward, blocked the door with his hand-

A cry of pain, a crisp sound of something snapping, this was the last sound Xavier heard before he was taken to heaven.

……

"Someone's locked in! Someone—get off me! Get out of here!"

"Sir! Sir! Calm down, you need therapy! My God, who is this redhead? Does anyone know?  …"

The flustered waiters and security guards supported Isaac together, and screamed out of his horror - his right arm was nowhere to be found, and the section was disturbingly flat; unstoppable blood stained half of it red clothes, but he seemed ignorant and only wanted to break into the door.

boom!With a loud bang, the door that pinched his hand was knocked open as he wished, and several people looked at the empty room, with white curtains floating in the empty room.

The Irishman must be crazy, which was the thought of everyone present at the time.

**

"Get out of the way, get out of the way!"

A tall woman shouted and walked upstairs, holding up an umbrella at the same time.In an instant, it began to rain, and everyone present fell into a dull silence.

She grabbed Isaac's hand—the uninjured one, and the latter turned his head to see Jealousy, still in psychic attire.

"How did you come?"

"Come with me first," she said.

When jealousy led Isaac away, the crowd hesitantly stirred up in the rain and forgot something: for example, a strange woman broke into the party and took away a man covered in blood. The topic of conversation throughout the summer quietly disappeared in the rain.

It was night, and Isaac, who was temporarily brought back to the villa, had fallen into a coma under the influence of magic, and Jealousy heard a knock on the door at around two o'clock in the morning.When I opened the door, there was a large box the size of my body, which contained another Isaac—good hands and feet, no injuries.Taped to the bottom of the box was a small pouch with a card: "To Isaac of Long Island, as compensation." The pouch itself bore the subtitle "Back to Life."

Inside was a turn of hemp rope.