Page 6 - demo

Sunday, November 11,1917, cloudy

Gatsby is leaving tomorrow. On this

cold afternoon, he and I sat quietly by the

fire for a long time, we hugged and kissed

each other, cherishing the last moments of

being able to stay together. At that time,

I kept thinking: how peaceful and

comfortable such a day is! I really want

time to be fixed at this moment, and I

really don't want to be separated from

Gatsby! I really can't bear it. This

departure, I really don't know how long it

will take to meet again. If...if, he died in the

war, what...what should I do!