“I don’t know what’s happening,” she said vaguely, more doubtful than she had been before. “I don’t know either,” I said, “but Daisy, make a decision. You can’t have them both, you know. You can’t live in East Egg for Tom and your parents, and row across the Sound to Gatsby’s as soon as the sun sets.” “But of course I can,” she said as if scandalized. “You just don’t know, Jordan. It’s not just double lives. It’s triple, quads and quints…” She wasn’t drunk. That was the horror of it.
