“Here’s my darling, my darling, my love and my life,” Daisy said, taking Pammy’s hand and encouraging her in a bashful pirouette. Pammy’s eyes were full of Daisy, but when her mother pushed her towards us, she went easily enough. She called me Aunt Jordan and kissed me dutifully on the cheek, and she curtsied prettily for Nick and for Gatsby. Nick treated her with the grave courtesy that makes some adults so very popular with children, and Gatsby seemed oddly shy of her, darting glances between her small face and Daisy’s almost askance.
