V-05: The Last Waltz of Gatsby
The jazz band played on the terrace, and the champagne flowed like water in a drought, and Thomas Calloway stood at the edge of the party and watched it all with the detached curiosity of a man who had seen too much to be impressed by anything. He had been back from Europe for three weeks. Three weeks of trying to forget the sound of artillery, the smell of cordite, the sight of boys who had...
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