1) From time to time
Definition: Sometimes, but not regularly or very often.
Example 1: When revising for my history exam, I take a short break from time to time to rest my eyes.
Example 2: From time to time, the professor gives us a small quiz to check we understand the topic.
2) denied
Definition: Said that something was not true, or refused to admit to doing something.
Example 1: He strongly denied that he had copied the answers during the final maths exam.
Example 2: The student denied cheating, even though the teacher found notes hidden in his desk.
3) embarrassment
Definition: A feeling of being nervous, ashamed, or uncomfortable, especially in front of other people.
Example 1: To save himself the embarrassment of failing the course, he studied in the library every evening.
Example 2: She felt a lot of embarrassment when her mind went completely blank during the oral examination.
4) casually
Definition: In a relaxed and informal way, without seeming to worry or care too much.
Example 1: Instead of making careful notes, he just casually read the textbook the night before the big test.
Example 2: She casually looked through her flashcards while waiting outside the hall for the exam to begin.
5) confidently
Definition: In a way that shows you are sure of your own abilities and certain that you will do well.
Example 1: After weeks of hard revision, she walked confidently into the university exam room.
Example 2: He confidently answered the essay question because he knew the subject perfectly.
6) mumbling
Definition: Speaking very quietly and not clearly, making it difficult for other people to hear or understand you.
Example 1: While trying to memorise the chemical formulas, she walked around her bedroom mumbling the words to herself.
Example 2: The nervous student stood at the front of the class, mumbling his presentation instead of speaking clearly.
7) looked as if
Definition: Seemed or appeared to be true, based on the situation or on what you could see.
Example 1: He looked as if he had not slept for days because he was up all night studying for his degree.
Example 2: When I first read the paper, it looked as if the test was going to be impossible, but it actually got easier.
Throughout the summer nights, music floated from my neighbour's house. In his picturesque gardens, men and women came and went like night insects around a light, surrounded by whispers, champagne, and stars. During the afternoon, guests jumped from his diving board or sunbathed on the hot sand, while his motorboats travelled rapidly over the water. On weekends, his expensive Rolls-Royce acted like a bus, bringing groups to and from the city on a regular basis until past midnight. Then, on Mondays, servants worked all day cleaning up the dreadful mess.
From time to time, catering staff transformed his enormous garden with tents and vivid coloured lights, making it shine like a Christmas tree. Long tables were covered in delicious snacks, hams, and perfectly cooked golden turkeys, next to a drinks bar. By seven o'clock, a musical orchestra arrived. The driveway filled with cars from New York, and the air was soon filled with loud chatting and laughter.
As it got darker, the lights shone brightly and the orchestra played popular cocktail music. People laughed and talked easily, cheerful words without thinking. Groups formed and broke apart quickly.
On my first night, I believe I was one of the few guests who had actually received a formal invitation from Jay Gatsby; most people simply drove out to Long Island and behaved like they were out of control at a wild theme park. Dressed in white, I wandered uncomfortably among crowds of strangers. I tried to find my host, but the people I asked looked surprised at my asking and denied knowing where he was. Shyly, I headed towards the cocktail table. I was planning to get drunk to hide my embarrassment, but then Jordan Baker appeared. Welcome or not, I knew I had to talk to her to escape the strangers.
"Hello!" I said loudly, walking towards her.
"I thought you might be here," she replied casually. "I remembered you lived next door."
She took my arm, and we walked down the steps. Taking our drinks from a passing waiter, we sat at a table with two girls in yellow dresses and three men.
"Do you come to these parties often?" Jordan asked the girl next to her.
"The last one I went to was the one where I met you," the girl answered confidently.
Jordan smiled back at the girl. "Sorry," Jordan said. "You know what it’s like at these things."
"I love coming here," her friend, Lucille, added. "I never care what I do, so I always have a good time. The last time I was here, I tore my dress on a chair. Gatsby asked for my name and address, and within a week, I received a package with a brand new evening dress to replace it."
"Did you keep it?" Jordan asked.
"Of course! It was beautiful blue silk. It cost two hundred and sixty-five dollars."
"There's something peculiar about a man who does things like that," the first girl whispered. "He doesn't want any trouble with anyone."
"Who doesn't?" I asked.
"Gatsby," she replied. The two girls and Jordan leaned in closely. "Somebody told me they thought he killed a man once."
A moment of excitement passed over all of us. The three men leaned forward to listen.
"I don't think it's that," Lucille argued. "It's more likely that he was a German spy during the war."
One of the men nodded. "I heard that from a man who grew up with him in Germany."
"Oh, no," the first girl said. "He was in the American army during the war." She leaned in even closer. "If you observe him sometimes when he thinks nobody is watching, you can see how suspicious he looks."
We all shivered and looked around for Gatsby. It was amazing how much romantic gossip he created among his guests. Later, Jordan suggested we left the table. We checked the bar for Gatsby, but he wasn't there. Opening a heavy wooden door, we walked into a beautiful, classic library. A drunk, middle-aged man with thick glasses was staring carefully at the bookshelves, examining them.
"What do you think?" he asked us immediately.
"About what?" Jordan replied.
He pointed at the bookshelves. "About those. You don't need to check them. I already did. They're real."
"The books?" I asked.
"Absolutely real!" he shouted happily. "They have pages and everything. I thought they would be just empty cardboard boxes. But they are completely solid. Let me show you."
He ran to the shelf, pulled out a large book, and showed it to us.
"See! It's a real printed book. It completely fooled me. This man is pretty smart. I was quite convinced at first. But you can tell they haven’t been read or even opened. What more could you expect?"
He quickly put the book back, mumbling that if he moved one book, the whole library might fall down.
"Who brought you here?" he asked us. "Or did you just arrive on your own? I was brought by a woman named Mrs. Roosevelt. I've been drunk for about a week, so I thought sitting in a library might make me feel better."
"Has it worked?" Jordan asked with a smile.
"A little bit, maybe. Did I mention the books are real?"
"You told us," we said.
We shook his hand and went back outside.
Outside, the party was reaching its peak. People danced on the stage, a famous singer performed, and waiters served champagne in massive glasses. The moon was high in the sky. I was still sitting with Jordan Baker, sharing a table with a man about my age. I was finally enjoying myself after drinking some champagne. During a quiet moment, the man looked at me and smiled.
"Your face looks familiar," he said politely. "Were you in the First Division* during the war?"
"Yes, I was," I replied. "I was in the Twenty-eighth Infantry*."
"I was in the Sixteenth until June 1918. I knew I had seen you somewhere before."
We talked for a few minutes about some wet, grey little villages in rural France. He told me he had just bought a new hydroplane* and was planning to test it on the water the next morning.
"Do you want to come with me, old sport*?" he asked. "We'll just go near the shore."
"What time?" I asked.
"Any time that is best for you."
I was just about to ask him his name when Jordan turned around and smiled at me.
"Are you having a good time now?" she asked.
"Much better," I told her. I turned back to my new friend. "This is a very unusual party for me. In actual fact, I haven't even seen the host yet in person. I live right next door, and this man Gatsby sent his driver over with an invitation."
For a second, the man looked as if he didn't understand.
"I'm Gatsby," he said suddenly.
"What!" I shouted in astonishment. "Oh, I am so sorry."
"I thought you knew, old sport*," he smiled. "I'm afraid I'm not a very good host."
Copyright © 2026 Practising English
All rights reserved
