Michaelis and this man reached her first, but when they had torn open her shirtwaist they saw there was no need to listen for the heart beneath as her left breast was swinging loose like a flap.
After staring around the garage with glazed eyes Tom Buchanan, Myrtle Wilsons lover, addressed a mumbled incoherent remark to the policeman.
What happened?- that's what I want to know
Auto hit her. Ins'antly killed.
Tom addresses Mr. Wilson as he drills into him the fact that the yellow car he saw him driving the other day didn't belong to him but it was in fact owned by a friend and Mr. Wilson asks him what color his actual car is.
That yellow car I was driving this afternoon wasn't mine-do you hear? I haven't seen it all afternoon