His hand took hold of hers, and as she said something low in his ear he turned toward her with a rush of emotion. They had forgotten me, but Daisy glanced up and held out her hand; Gatsby didn't know me now at all. I looked once more at them and they looked back at me, remotely, possessed by intense life. Then I went out of the room and down the marble steps into the rain, leaving them there together.
[F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940)]
