1919, East Egg, Long Island, New York.
"Daisy, darling, today I'll show you the charms of polo. You'll fall in love with me all over again! Trust me."
"Haha, Tom, don't I already love you?"
Tom Buchanan hurried toward the polo field at his estate, hand in hand with his new wife, Daisy Buchanan. He wore standard polo attire: a knitted T-shirt, suspenders, and gleaming riding boots. His hair was meticulously combed.
Beyond the hedge at the edge of the field, a black stretch limousine with an unusual design—unlike the coupes and boxy coupes so common at the time—glided past.
Tom Buchanan spotted the elegant H-shaped emblem on its hood and waved over a second footman standing nearby with a towel.
"Has anyone been by the Howlett Estate, to the west, lately?" Buchanan asked seriously.
The footman glanced in the direction the car had gone and answered respectfully, "Yes, sir. I saw a convoy of cars heading that way the day before yesterday. Yesterday, there were a lot of servants and staff on the estate, rushing to get everything in order."
"Mr. Howlett must have come to stay here. They don't sell that model to the public. It has to be him. Daisy!"
Tom Buchanan muttered to himself, then hurriedly called for his wife. Daisy Buchanan was happily teasing a dark brown horse. Her skin was exceptionally fair, her hair golden, and she seemed to glow in the sunlight.
"Come on. No polo today. Come with me to visit the Howlett Estate." Buchanan was still as impulsive as ever, abruptly changing his plans in his haste.
"We're not playing? But darling, where are we going? I've never heard of the Howlett Estate."
Daisy blinked her big eyes. She was gradually getting used to her husband's ways.
"It's no surprise you