I will tell you a story...I had recently moved to live in East Egg and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans.
I am Jordan Baker and I got a tournament tomorrow. Goodbye.
“Civilization’s going to pieces, you know and she's a nice girl but we heard you are engaged Nick.
We heard it from three people so it must be true. I will arrange an affair between you two!
"It's libel, bye!" Their interest rather touched me and made them less remotely rich — nevertheless, I was confused and a little disgusted as I drove away.
Oh. That must be the Mr. Gatsby that Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone.
Where are we going Tom?
We’re getting off, I want you to meet my girl.
Ok. I am Nick.
Call me Myrtle. I met Tom I was going up to New York to see my sister and spend the night. He had on a dress suit and patent leather shoes, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
I should go and wait for the four o’clock train.
All I said was Daisy! Daisy! and you broke my nose, Tom!