From the perspective of Jay Gatsby:
"We've met before," I muttered. I looked at Nick, and I was tempted to laugh a gilded laugh and feign humor, but I could not. I realized the situation I was in, talking to the girl I loved, and I forgot Nick was there. I caught the horrid clock as it almost fell to the ground, and I rested it back its place. I heard, but ignored, Nick's statement that it was an old clock; time still progress regardless of the age of it's instruments. "We haven't met in years," said Daisy. I responded almost automatically, saying "five years next November, and realizing the awkwardness of such an automatic response I quieted myself. I paid no regard to the cupcakes and tea brought into the room, and walked into a shadow as Nick and Daisy spoke. We looked about wearily, and soon Nick left the room. I was alarmed, and I followed him out of the room. I explained to him the disaster that this meeting had turned into, but he only said that it was because I was embarrassed, as was Daisy. I urged him to quiet down, but he told me that I was acting as though I were a little boy, and very rude, for leaving my guest in the room by herself. I did not even want to hear what he had to say, and I left the kitchen to go back to the room, where Daisy sat on the couch. I looked at Daisy. She was beautiful, and she reminded me of the extravagant man I was. I would not her go simply due to the awkwardness of the moment.
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