the front door was slightly ajar and she trotted, breathless, into the hall and paused for amoment under the rainbow prisms of the chandelier. for all its brightness the house was very still,not with the serene stillness of sleep but with a watchful, tired silence that was faintly ominous.
she saw at a glance that rhett was not in the parlor or the library and her heart sank. suppose heshould be out—out with belle or wherever it was he spent the many evenings when he did notappear at the supper table? she had not bargained on this.
she had started up the steps in search of him when she saw that the door of the dining room wasclosed. her heart contracted a little with shame at the sight of that closed door, remembering themany nights of this last summer when rhett had sat there alone, drinking until he was sodden andpork came to urge him to bed. that had been her fault but she’d change it all. everything was to bedifferent from now on—but, please god, don’t let him be too drunk tonight. if he’s too drunk hewon’t believe me and he’ll laugh at me and that will break my heart.
she quietly opened the dining-room door a crack and peered in. he was seated before the table,slumped in his chair, and a full decanter stood before him with the stopper in place, the glassunused. thank god, he was sober! she pulled open the door, holding herself back from running tohim. but when he looked up at her, something in his gaze stopped her dead on the threshold, stilledthe words on her lips.
he looked at her steadily with dark eyes that were heavy with fatigue and there was no leapinglight in them. though her hair was tumbling about her shoulders, her bosom heaving breathlesslyand her skirts mud splattered to the knees, his face did not change with surprise or question or hislips twist with mockery. he was sunken in his chair, his suit wrinkling untidily against histhickening waist, every line of him proclaiming the ruin of a fine body and the coarsening of astrong face. drink and dissipation had done their work on the coin-clean profile and now it was nolonger the head of a young pagan prince on new-minted gold but a decadent, tired caesar oncopper debased by long usage. he looked up at her as she stood there, hand on heart, lookedquietly, almost in a kindly way, that frightened her.
“come and sit down,” he said. “she is dead?”
she nodded and advanced hesitantly toward him, uncertainty taking form in her mind at thisnew expression on his face. without rising, he pushed back a chair with his foot and she sank intoit. she wished he had not spoken of melanie so soon. she did not want to talk of her now, to re-livethe agony of the last hour. there was all the rest of her life in which to speak of melanie. but itseemed to her now, driven by a fierce desire to cry: “i love you,” that there was only this night, thishour, in which to tell rhett what was in her mind. but there was something in his face that stoppedher and she was suddenly ashamed to speak of love when melanie was hardly cold.
“well, god rest her,” he said heavily. “she was the only completely kind person i ever knew.”
“oh, rhett!” she cried miserably, for his words brought up too vividly all the kind thingsmelanie had ever done for her. “why didn’t you come in with me? it was dreadful—and i neededyou so!”
“i couldn’t have borne it,” he said simply and for a moment he was silent. then he spoke with an effort and said, softly: “a very great lady.”
his somber gaze went past her and in his eyes was the same look she had seen in the light of theflames the night atlanta fell, when he told her he was going off with the retreating army—thesurprise of a man who knows himself utterly, yet discovers in himself unexpected loyalties andemotions and feels a faint self-ridicule at the discovery.
his moody eyes went over her shoulder as though he saw melanie silently passing through theroom to the door. in the look of farewell on his face there was no sorrow, no pain, only aspeculative wonder at himself, only a poignant stirring of emotions dead since boyhood, as he saidagain: “a very great lady.”
scarlett shivered and the glow went from her heart, the fine warmth, the splendor which hadsent her home on winged feet. she half-grasped what was in rhett’s mind as he said farewell to theonly person in the world he respected and she was desolate again with a terrible sense of loss thatwas no longer personal. she could not wholly understand or analyze what he was feeling, but itseemed almost as if she too had been brushed by whispering skirts, touching her softly in a lastcaress. she was seeing through rhett’s eyes the passing, not of a woman but of a legend—thegentle, self-effacing but steel-spined women on whom the south had builded its house in war andto whose proud and loving arms it had returned in defeathis eyes came back to her and his voice changed. now it was light and cool.
“so she’s dead. that makes it nice for you, doesn’t it?”
“oh, how can you say such things,” she cried, stung, the quick tears coming to her eyes. “youknow how i loved her!”
“no, i can’t say i did. most unexpected and it’s to your credit, considering your passion forwhite trash, that you could appreciate her at last.”
“how can you talk so? of course i appreciated her! you didn’t. you didn’t know her like i did!
it isn’t in you to understand her—how good she was—”
“indeed? perhaps not.”
“she thought of everybody except herself—why, her last words were about you.”
there was a flash of genuine feeling in his eyes as he turned to her.
“what did she say?”
“oh, not now, rhett.”
“tell me.”
his voice was cool but the hand he put on her wrist hurt. she did not want to tell, this was notthe way she had intended to lead up to the subject of her love but his hand was urgent.
“she said—she said— ‘be kind to captain butler. he loves you so much.’ ”
he stared at her and dropped her wrist. his eyelids went down, leaving his face dark and blank.
suddenly he rose and going to the window, he drew the curtains and looked out intently as if therewere something to see outside except blinding mist.
“did she say anything else?” he questioned, not turning his head.
“she asked me to take care of little beau and i said i would, like he was my own boy.”
“what else?”
“she said—ashley—she asked me to look after ashley, too.”
he was silent for a moment and then he laughed softly.
“it’s convenient to have the first wife’s permission, isn’t it?”
“what do you mean?”
he turned and even in her confusion she was surprised that there was no mockery in his face.
nor was there any more interest in it than in the face of a man watching the last act of a none-tooamusingcomedy.
“i think my meaning’s plain enough. miss melly is dead. you certainly have all the evidenceyou want to divorce me and you haven’t enough reputation left for a divorce to hurt you. and youhaven’t any religion left, so the church won’t matter. then—ashley and dreams come true withthe blessings of miss melly.”
“divorce?” she cried. “no! no!” incoherent for a moment she leaped to her feet and running tohim caught his arm. “oh, you’re all wrong! terribly wrong. i don’t want a divorce— i—” shestopped for she could find no other words.
he put his hand under her chin, quietly turned her face up to the light and looked for an intentmoment into her eyes. she looked up at him, her heart in her eyes, her lips quivering as she tried tospeak. but she could marshal no words because she was trying to find in his face some answeringemotions, some leaping light of hope, of joy. surely he must know, now! but the smooth darkblankness which had baffled her so often was all that her frantic, searching eyes could find. hedropped her chin and, turning, walked back to his chair and sprawled tiredly again, his chin on hisbreast, his eyes looking up at her from under black brows in an impersonal speculative way.
she followed him back to his chair, her hands twisting, and stood before him.
“you are wrong,” she began again, finding words. “rhett tonight, when i knew, i ran every stepof the way home to tell you. oh, darling, i—”
“you are tired,” he said, still watching her. “you’d better go to bed.”
“but i must tell you!”
“scarlett,” he said heavily, “i don’t want to hear—anything.”
“but you don’t know what i’m going to say!”
“my pet, it’s written plainly on your face. something, someone has made you realize that theunfortunate mr. wilkes is too large a mouthful of dead sea fruit for even you to chew. and thatsame something has suddenly set my charms before you in a new and attractive light,” he sighedslightly. “and it’s no use to talk about it.”
she drew a sharp surprised breath. of course, he had always read her easily. heretofore she hadresented it but now, after the first shock at her own transparency, her heart rose with gladness and relief. he knew, he understood and her task was miraculously made easy. no use to talk about it!
of course he was bitter at her long neglect, of course he was mistrustful of her sudden turnabout.
she would have to woo him with kindness, convince him with a rich outpouring of love, and whata pleasure it would be to do it!
“darling, i’m going to tell you everything,” she said, putting her hands on the arm of his chairand leaning down to him. “i’ve been so wrong, such a stupid fool—”
“scarlett, don’t go on with this. don’t be humble before me. i can’t bear it. leave us somedignity, some reticence to remember out of our marriage. spare us this last.”
she straightened up abruptly. spare us this last? what did he mean by “this last”? last? thiswas their first, their beginning.
“but i will tell you,” she began rapidly, as if fearing his hand upon her mouth, silencing her.
“oh, rhett, i love you so, darling! i must have loved you for years and i was such a fool i didn’tknow it. rhett, you must believe me!”
he looked at her, standing before him, for a moment, a long look that went to the back of hermind. she saw there was belief in his eyes but little interest. oh, was he going to be mean, at thisof all times? to torment her, pay her back in her own coin?
“oh, i believe you,” he said at last “but what of ashley wilkes?”
“ashley!” she said, and made an impatient gesture. “i—i don’t believe i’ve cared anythingabout him for ages. it was—wen, a sort of habit i hung onto from when i was a little girl. rhett, i’dnever even thought i cared about him if i’d ever known what he was really like. he’s such ahelpless, poor-spirited creature, for all his prattle about truth and honor and—”
“no,” said rhett. “if you must see him as he really is, see him straight. he’s only a gentlemancaught in a world he doesn’t belong in, trying to make a poor best of it by the rules of the worldthat’s gone.”
“oh, rhett, don’t let’s talk of him! what does he matter now? aren’t you glad to know— imean, now that i—”
as his tired eyes met hers, she broke off in embarrassment, shy as a girl with her first beau. ifhe’d only make it easier for her! if only he would hold out his arms, so she could crawl thankfullyinto his lap and lay her head on his chest. her lips on his could tell him better than all herstumbling words. but as she looked at him, she realized that he was not holding her off just to bemean. he looked drained and as though nothing she had said was of any moment.
“glad?” he said. “once i would have thanked god, fasting, to hear you say all this. but, now, itdoesn’t matter.”
“doesn’t matter? what are you talking about? of course, it matters! rhett, you do care, don’tyou? you must care. melly said you did.”
“well, she was right, as far as she knew. but, scarlett, did it ever occur to you that even the mostdeathless love could wear out?”
she looked at him speechless, her mouth a round o.
“mine wore out,” he went on, “against ashley wilkes and your insane obstinacy that makes youhold on like a bulldog to anything you think you want ... mine wore out.”
“but love can’t wear out!”
“yours for ashley did.”
“but i never really loved ashley!”
“then, you certainly gave a good imitation of it—up till tonight. scarlett, i’m not upbraidingyou, accusing you, reproaching you. that time has passed. so spare me your defenses and yourexplanations. if you can manage to listen to me for a few minutes without interrupting, i canexplain what i mean. though god knows, i see no need for explanations. the truth’s so plain.”
she sat down, the harsh gas light falling on her white bewildered face. she looked into the eyesshe knew so well—and knew so little—listened to his quiet voice saying words which at firstmeant nothing. this was the first time he had ever talked to her in this manner, as one human beingto another, talked as other people talked, without flippancy, mockery or riddles.
“did it ever occur to you that i loved you as much as a man can love a woman? loved you foryears before i finally got you? during the war i’d go away and try to forget you, but i couldn’t andi always had to come back. after the war i risked arrest, just to come back and find you. i cared somuch i believe i would have killed frank kennedy if he hadn’t died when he did. i loved you but icouldn’t let you know it. you’re so brutal to those who love you, scarlett. you take their love andhold it over their heads like a whip.”
out of it all only the fact that he loved her meant anything. at the faint echo of passion in hisvoice, pleasure and excitement crept back into her. she sat, hardly breathing, listening, waiting.
“i knew you didn’t love me when i married you. i knew about ashley, you see. but, fool that iwas, i thought i could make you care. laugh, if you like, but i wanted to take care of you, to petyou, to give you everything you wanted. i wanted to marry you and protect you and give you a freerein in anything that would make you happy—just as i did bonnie. you’d had such a struggle,scarlett no one knew better than i what you’d gone through and i wanted you to stop fighting andlet me fight for you. i wanted you to play, like a child—for you were a child, a brave, frightened,bullheaded child. i think you are still a child. no one but a child could be so headstrong and soinsensitive.”
his voice was calm and tired but there was something in the quality of it that raised a ghost ofmemory in scarlett. she had heard a voice like this once before and at some other crisis of her life.
where had it been? the voice of a man facing himself and his world without feeling, withoutflinching, without hope.
why—why—it had been ashley in the wintry, windswept orchard at tara, talking of life andshadow shows with a tired calmness that had more finality in its timbre than any desperatebitterness could have revealed. even as ashley’s voice then had turned her cold with dread ofthings she could not understand, so now rhett’s voice made her heart sink. his voice, his manner,more than the content of his words, disturbed her, made her realize that her pleasurable excitementof a few moments ago had been untimely. something was wrong, badly wrong. what it was shedid not know but she listened desperately, her eyes on his brown face, hoping to hear words that would dissipate her fears.
“it was so obvious that we were meant for each other. so obvious that i was the only man ofyour acquaintance who could love you after knowing you as you really are—hard and greedy andunscrupulous, like me. i loved you and i took the chance. i thought ashley would fade out of yourmind. but,” he shrugged, “i tried everything i knew and nothing worked. and i loved you so,scarlett. if you had only let me, i could have loved you as gently and as tenderly as ever a manloved a woman. but i couldn’t let you know, for i knew you’d think me weak and try to use mylove against me. and always—always there was ashley. it drove me crazy. i couldn’t sit across thetable from you every night, knowing you wished ashley was sitting there in my place. and icouldn’t hold you in my arms at night and know that—well, it doesn’t matter now. i wonder, now,why it hurt. that’s what drove me to belle. there is a certain swinish comfort in being with awoman who loves you utterly and respects you for being a fine gentleman—even if she is anilliterate whore. it soothed my vanity. you’ve never been very soothing, my dear.”
“oh, rhett ...” she began, miserable at the very mention of belle’s name, but he waved her tosilence and went on.
“and then, that night when i carried you upstairs—i thought—i hoped—i hoped so much i wasafraid to face you the next morning, for fear i’d been mistaken and you didn’t love me. i was soafraid you’d laugh at me i went off and got drunk. and when i came back, i was shaking in myboots and if you had come even halfway to meet me, had given me some sign, i think i’d havekissed your feet. but you didn’t.”
“oh, but rhett, i did want you then but you were so nasty! i did want you! i think—yes, thatmust have been when i first knew i cared about you. ashley—i never was happy about ashleyafter that, but you were so nasty that i—”
“oh, well,” he said. “it seems we’ve been at cross purposes, doesn’t it? but it doesn’t matternow. i’m only telling you, so you won’t ever wonder about it all. when you were sick and it wasall my fault, i stood outside your door, hoping you’d call for me, but you didn’t, and then i knewwhat a fool i’d been and that it was all over.”
he stopped and looked through her and beyond her, even as ashley had often done, seeingsomething she could not see. and she could only stare speechless at his brooding face.
“but then, there was bonnie and i saw that everything wasn’t over, after all. i liked to think thatbonnie was you, a little girl again, before the war and poverty had done things to you. she was solike you, so willful, so brave and gay and full of high spirits, and i could pet her and spoil her—just as i wanted to pet you. but she wasn’t like you—she loved me. it was a blessing that i couldtake the love you didn’t want and give it to her ... when she went, she took everything.”
suddenly she was sorry for him, sorry with a completeness that wiped out her own grief and herfear of what his words might mean. it was the first time in her life she had been sorry for anyonewithout feeling contemptuous as well, because it was the first time she had ever approachedunderstanding any other human being. and she could understand his shrewd caginess, so like herown, his obstinate pride that kept him from admitting his love for fear of a rebuff.
“ah, darling,” she said coming forward, hoping he would put out his arms and draw her to his knees. “darling, i’m so sorry but i’ll make it all up to you! we can be so happy, now that we knowthe truth and—rhett—look at me, rhett! there—there can be other babies—not like bonnie but—”
“thank you, no,” said rhett, as if he were refusing a piece of bread. “i’ll not risk my heart athird time.”
“rhett, don’t say such things! oh, what can i say to make you understand? i’ve told you howsorry i am—”
“my darling, you’re such a child. you think that by saying, ‘i’m sorry,’ all the errors and hurts ofyears past can be remedied, obliterated from the mind, all the poison drawn from old wounds. ...
take my handkerchief, scarlett. never, at any crisis of your life, have i known you to have ahandkerchief.”
she took the handkerchief, blew her nose and sat down. it was obvious that he was not going totake her in his arms. it was beginning to be obvious that all his talk about loving her meantnothing. it was a tale of a time long past and he was looking at it as though it had never happenedto him. and that was frightening. he looked at her in an almost kindly way, speculation in his eyes.
“how old are you, my dear? you never would tell me.”
“twenty-eight,” she answered dully, muffled in the handkerchief.
“that’s not a vast age. it’s a young age to have gained the whole world and lost your own soul,isn’t it? don’t look frightened. i’m not referring to hell fire to come for your affair with ashley.
i’m merely speaking metaphorically. ever since i’ve known you, you’ve wanted two things.
ashley and to be rich enough to tell the world to go to hell. well, you are rich enough and you’vespoken sharply to the world and you’ve got ashley, if you want him. but all that doesn’t seem tobe enough now.”
she was frightened but not at the thought of hell fire. she was thinking: “but rhett is my souland i’m losing him. and if i lose him, nothing else matters! no, not friends or money or—oranything. if only i had him i wouldn’t even mind being poor again. no, i wouldn’t mind beingcold again or even hungry. but he can’t mean— oh, he can’t!”
she wiped her eyes and said desperately:
“rhett, if you once loved me so much, there must be something left for me.”
“out of it all i find only two things that remain and they are the two things you hate the most—pity and an odd feeling of kindness.”
pity! kindness! “oh, my god,” she thought despairingly. anything hut pity and kindness.
whenever she felt these two emotions for anyone, they went hand in hand with contempt was hecontemptuous of her too? anything would be preferable to that. even the cynical coolness of thewar days, the drunken madness that drove him the night he carried her up the stairs, his hardfingers bruising her body, or the barbed drawling words that she now realized had covered a bitterlove. anything except this impersonal kindness that was written so plainly in his face.
“then—then you mean i’ve ruined it all—that you don’t love me any more?”
“that’s right.”
“but,” she said stubbornly, like a child who still feels that to state a desire is to gain that desire,“but i love you!”
“that’s your misfortune.”
she looked up quickly to see if there was a jeer behind those words but there was none. he wassimply stating a fact. but it was a fact she still would not believe—could not believe. she looked athim with slanting eyes that burned with a desperate obstinacy and the sudden hard line of jaw thatsprang out through her soft cheek was gerald’s jaw.
“don’t be a fool, rhett! i can make—”
he flung up a hand in mock horror and his black brows went up in the old sardonic crescents.
“don’t look so determined, scarlett! you frighten me. i see you are contemplating the transfer ofyour tempestuous affections from ashley to me and i fear for my liberty and my peace of mind.
no, scarlett, i will not be pursued as the luckless ashley was pursued. besides, i am going away.”
her jaw trembled before she clenched her teeth to steady it. go away? no, anything but that!
how could life go on without him? everyone had gone from her, everyone who mattered exceptrhett. he couldn’t go. but how could she stop him? she was powerless against his cool mind, hisdisinterested words.
“i am going away. i intended to tell you when you came home from marietta.”
“you are deserting me?”
“don’t be the neglected, dramatic wife, scarlett. the role isn’t becoming. i take it, then, you donot want a divorce or even a separation? well, then, i’ll come back often enough to keep gossipdown.”
“damn gossip!” she said fiercely. “it’s you i want. take me with you!”
“no,” he said, and there was finality in his voice. for a moment she was on the verge of anoutburst of childish wild tears. she could have thrown herself on the floor, cursed and screamedand drummed her heels. but some remnant of pride, of common sense stiffened her. she thought, ifi did, he’d only laugh, or just look at me. i mustn’t bawl; i mustn’t beg. i mustn’t do anything torisk his contempt. he must respect me even—even if he doesn’t love me.
she lifted her chin and managed to ask quietly:
“where will you go?”
there was a faint gleam of admiration in his eyes as he answered.
“perhaps to england—or to paris. perhaps to charleston to try to make peace with my people.”
“but you hate them! i’ve heard you laugh at them so often and—”
he shrugged.
“i still laugh—but i’ve reached the end of roaming, scarlett i’m forty-five—the age when a manbegins to value some of the things he’s thrown away so lightly in youth, the clannishness of families, honor and security, roots that go deep— oh, not i’m not recanting, i’m not regrettinganything i’ve ever done. i’ve had a hell of a good time—such a hell of a good time that it’s begunto pall and now i want something different. no, i never intend to change more than my spots. but iwant the outer semblance of the things i used to know, the utter boredom of respectability—otherpeople’s respectability, my pet, not my own—the calm dignity life can have when it’s lived bygentle folks, the genial grace of days that are gone. when i lived those days i didn’t realize theslow charm of them—”
again scarlett was back in the windy orchard of tara and there was the same look in rhett’seyes that had been in ashley’s eyes that day. ashley’s words were as clear in her ears as though heand not rhett were speaking. fragments of words came back to her and she quoted parrot-like: “aglamour to it—a perfection, a symmetry like grecian art.”
rhett said sharply: “why did you say that? that’s what i meant.”
“it was something that—that ashley said once, about the old days.”
he shrugged and the light went out of his eyes.
“always ashley,” he said and was silent for a moment.
“scarlett, when you are forty-five, perhaps you will know what i’m talking about and thenperhaps you, too, will be tired of imitation gentry and shoddy manners and cheap emotions. but idoubt it. i think you’ll always be more attracted by glister than by gold. anyway, i can’t wait thatlong to see. and i have no desire to wait. it just doesn’t interest me. i’m going to hunt in old townsand old countries where some of the old times must still linger. i’m that sentimental. atlanta’s tooraw for me, too new.”
“stop,” she said suddenly. she had hardly heard anything he had said. certainly her mind hadnot taken it in. but she knew she could no longer endure with any fortitude the sound of his voicewhen there was no love in ithe paused and looked at her quizzically.
“well, you get my meaning, don’t you?” he questioned, rising to his feet.
she threw out her hands to him, palms up, in the age-old gesture of appeal and her heart, again,was in her face.
“no,” she cried. “all i know is that you do not love me and you are going away! oh, mydarling, if you go, what shall i do?”
for a moment he hesitated as if debating whether a kind lie were kinder in the long run than thetruth. then he shrugged.
“scarlett, i was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together and tellmyself that the mended whole was as good as new. what is broken is broken—and i’d ratherremember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as i lived. perhaps,if i were younger—” he sighed. “but i’m too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slatesand starting all over. i’m too old to shoulder the burden of constant lies that go with living in politedisillusionment. i couldn’t live with you and lie to you and i certainly couldn’t lie to myself. i can’teven lie to you now. i wish i could care what you do or where you go, but i can’t.”
he drew a short breath and said lightly but softly:
“my dear, i don’t give a damn.”
.
she silently watched him go up the stairs, feeling that she would strangle at the pain in herthroat. with the sound of his feet dying away in the upper hall was dying the last thing in the worldthat mattered. she knew now that there was no appeal of emotion or reason which would turn thatcool brain from its verdict. she knew now that he had meant every word he said, lightly thoughsome of them had been spoken. she knew because she sensed in him something strong, unyielding,implacable—all the qualities she had looked for in ashley and never found.
she had never understood either of the men she had loved and so she had lost them both. now,she had a fumbling knowledge that, had she ever understood ashley, she would never have lovedhim; had she ever understood rhett, she would never have lost him. she wondered forlornly if shehad ever really understood anyone in the world.
there was a merciful dullness in her mind now, a dullness that she knew from long experiencewould soon give way to sharp pain, even as severed tissues, shocked by the surgeon’s knife, have abrief instant of insensibility before their agony begins.
“i won’t think of it now,” she thought grimly, summoning up her old charm. “i’ll go crazy if ithink about losing him now. i’ll think of it tomorrow.”
“but,” cried her heart, casting aside the charm and beginning to ache, “i can’t let him go! theremust be some way!”
“i won’t think of it now,” she said again, aloud, trying to push her misery to the back of hermind, trying to find some bulwark against the rising tide of pain. “i’ll—why, i’ll go home to taratomorrow,” and her spirits lifted faintly.
she had gone back to tara once in fear and defeat and she had emerged from its sheltering wallsstrong and armed for victory. what she had done once, somehow—please god, she could do again!
how, she did not know. she did not want to think of that now. all she wanted was a breathingspace in which to hurt, a quiet place to lick her wounds, a haven in which to plan her campaign.
she thought of tara and it was as if a gentle cool hand were stealing over her heart. she could seethe white house gleaming welcome to her through the reddening autumn leaves, feel the quiet hushof the country twilight coming down over her like a benediction, feel the dews falling on the acresof green bushes starred with fleecy white, see the raw color of the red earth and the dismal darkbeauty of the pines on the rolling hills.
she felt vaguely comforted, strengthened by the picture, and some of her hurt and frantic regretwas pushed from the top of her mind. she stood for a moment remembering small things, theavenue of dark cedars leading to tara, the banks of cape jessamine bushes, vivid green against thewhite walls, the fluttering white curtains. and mammy would be there. suddenly she wantedmammy desperately, as she had wanted her when she was a little girl, wanted the broad bosom onwhich to lay her head, the gnarled black hand on her hair. mammy, the last link with the old days.
with the spirit of her people who would not know defeat, even when it stared them in the face,she raised her chin. she could get rhett back. she knew she could. there had never been a manshe couldn’t get, once she set her mind upon him.
“i’ll think of it all tomorrow, at tara. i can stand it then. tomorrow, i’ll think of some way to gethim back. after all, tomorrow is another day.”
前门微微张开着，思嘉气喘吁吁快步走过穿堂，在枝形吊灯的彩色灯管下佇立了一会儿，尽管那么明亮，屋子里还是静悄悄的，但是不是人们熟睡后那种安适的宁静，而是那种惊醒而疲乏了的带有不祥之兆的沉默。她一眼就看出瑞德不在客厅里，也不在藏书室，便不禁心里一沉。或许他出门去了----跟贝尔在一起，或者在他每次没回家吃晚饭时常去的某个地方？这倒是她不曾预料到的。
她正要上楼去找他，这时发现饭厅的门关了。她一看见这扇关着的门便觉得羞愧，心都有点缩紧了，因为想起这年夏天有许多夜晚瑞德独自坐在里面喝酒，一直要喝得烂醉才由波克进来强迫他上楼去睡觉。这是她的过错，但她会彻底改的。从现在起，一切都会大变样----不过，请上帝大发慈悲，今晚可别让他喝得太醉呀。如果他喝醉了，他就不会相信我，而且会嘲笑我，那我就伤心死了！
她把饭厅的门轻轻打开一道缝，朝里面窥望。他果然坐在桌旁，斜靠在他的椅子里，面前放着一满瓶酒，瓶塞还没打开，酒杯还空着。感谢上帝，他清醒着呢？她拉开门，竭力克制自己才没有立即向他奔过去。但是当他抬起头来看她时，那眼光中似乎有点什么使她大为惊讶，她呆呆地站在门槛上，冒到嘴边的话也说不出来了。
他严肃地望着她，那双黑眼睛显得很疲倦，没有平常那种活泼的光芒了。此时，尽管她头发蓬乱地披散着，由于气喘吁吁，胸脯在紧张地起伏，裙子从膝部以下沾满了泥污，神情十分狼狈，可是他显得一点也不惊讶，也不问她什么，也不像以往那样咧开嘴角嘲讽她。他歪着身子坐在椅子里，衣服被那愈来愈粗的腰身撑着，显得又皱又邋遢，他身上处处体现出美好的形态已经被糟蹋，一张刚健的脸变粗糙了。饮酒和放荡也损坏了他那英俊的外貌，现在他的头已经不像新铸金币上的一个年轻异教徒王子的头像，而是一个旧铜币上的衰老疲惫的凯撒了。他抬头望着她站在那里，一只手放在胸口上，显得非常平静，几乎是一种客气的态度，而这是使她害怕的。
“进来坐下，"他说。"她死了吗？”
她点点头，犹豫地向他走去，因为看见他脸上那种新的表情，心里有点疑虑不定了。他没有起身，只用脚将一把椅子往后挪了挪，她便机械地在那里坐下。她很希望他不要这么快就谈起媚兰。她瑞在不想谈媚兰的事，免得重新引起刚刚平息的悲伤。她后半辈子还有的是时间去谈媚兰呢。可是现在，她已迫不及待地渴望喊出"我爱你"这几个字，好像只剩下今天晚上，剩下这个时刻，来让她向瑞德表白自己的心事了。然而，他脸上却显出那样一种表情，它阻止她，让她突然不好意思出口，在媚兰尸骨未寒的时候便谈起爱来。
“好吧，愿上帝让她安息，"他沉痛地说。"她是我所认识的唯一完美的好人。““啊，瑞德！"她伤心地喊道，因为他的话使她立刻生动地记起媚兰替她做过的每一件好事。"你为什么不跟我一起进去呢？那惊景真可怕----我真需要你啊！”“我也会受不了的，"他简短地说了一句，随即便沉默了。
过了一会，他才勉强轻轻地悦：“一个非常伟大的女性！"他那忧郁的目光越过她向前凝望，眼睛里流露的神情，跟亚特兰大陷落那天晚上她在火光中看见的一模一样，那时他告诉她，他要跟那些搞通退的部队一起走了----这是一个彻底了解自己的人出其不意的举动，他忽然从他自己身上发现了意外的忠诚和激情，并对这一发现产生了微带口嘲的感觉。
他那双忧郁的眼睛越过她的肩头向前凝望，好像看见媚兰默默地穿过房间向门口走去。他脸上的表情中没有悲哀，没有痛苦，只有一种对于自己的沉思和惊异，只有一种从童年时代便死去的激情和猛烈的骚动。这时他又说了一遍：“一个非常伟大的女性！"思嘉浑身颤抖，心里那股热情，那种温暖的感觉，以及鼓舞着她飞奔回来的那个美丽的设想，顿时都消失了。她只能大致体会到瑞德在心中给世界上他唯一佩服的那个人送终时的感情，因此她又产生了一种可怕的丧亡之感----尽管这已不再是个人的，心中仍倍觉凄凉。她不能完全理解或分析瑞德的感情，不过好像她自己也似乎能感觉到，在最后一次轻轻地抚爱时，媚兰那啊啊有声的裙子在碰触她似的。她从瑞德眼里看到的不是一个女人的死亡，而是一期伟人传记的结束----它记载着那些文雅谦让而坚强正直的女人，她们是战时南方的基石，而战败以后她们又张开骄傲和温暖的双臂欢迎南方回来了。
他的眼睛转过来看着她，他的声音也变得轻松而冷静了。
“那么她死了。这样一来，你倒是好办了，不是吗？"“唔，你怎么能这样说话，"她高声，显然被刺痛了，眼泪马上就要流出来了。"你知道我多么爱她呀！““不，我不能说我知道这一点。这太出人意外，当然你还是值得称赞的，因为你一向喜爱那些坏白人，但到最后终于认识她的好处了。"“你怎么能这样说呢？我当然以前就敬重她嘛！你却不是这样。你以前不像我这样理解她呀！你这种人是不会理解她的----她有多好----"“真的吗？不见得吧。"“她关心所有的人，除了她自己----噢，她最后的几句话是说的你呢。"他回头看着她，眼睛里闪着真诚的光芒。
“她说什么？”
“唔，现在先不谈吧，瑞德。”
“告诉我。”
他的声音较为冷静，但是他狠狠地捏住她的手腕，叫她痛极了。她不想告诉他，因为她没有找算用这种方式引到她爱他那个话题上去。可是他的手捏得实在太紧了。
“她说----她说----'要好好待巴特勒船长----他那么爱你。'"他盯着她，一面放下她的手腕。他的眼皮耷拉下来，脸下只剩下一片黝黑了。接着他突然站起来，走到窗前，把帘子拉开来，聚精会神地向外面凝望，仿佛外面除了浓雾之外他还看见了别的什么似的。
“她还说了别的吗？"他头也不回地问。
“她请求我照顾小博，我说我会的，像照顾自己的孩子一样。"“还有呢？”“她说----艾希礼----她请求我也照顾艾希礼。"他沉默了一会，然后轻轻地笑了。
“得到了前妻的允许，这就很方便了，不是吗？"“你这是什么意思？"他转过身来，这时她虽然惶惑不安，还是为他脸上并没有嘲讽的神色而大为惊异。他脸上同样没有一点感兴趣的样子，正如人们最后看完一个无趣味的喜剧时那样。
“我想我的意思已经够明白了。媚兰小姐死了。你一定有了充足的理由可以提出跟我离婚，而这样做对你来说对名誉也没有多大损害。你已经没有剩下多少宗教信仰，因此教会也不会来管。那么----艾希礼和你的那些梦想，都随着媚兰小姐的祝福而成为现实了。"“离婚，"她喊道。"不！不！"她一时不知该怎么说好，便跳起来跑去抓住他的胳臂。"唔，你完全搞错了，大错特错了！
我根本不想离婚----我----"她找不出别的话来说，便只得停住了。
他伸手托起她的下巴，轻轻地把她的脸抬起来对着灯光，然后认真地注视着她的眼眼看了一会。她仰望着他，仿佛全身心都灌注在眼睛里，嘴唇哆嗦着说不出话来。她也真不知怎么说才好，因为她正从他脸上寻找一种相应的激情和希望与喜悦的表情。现在，他必定知道了嘛！但是她急切搜索的眼睛所找到的仍是那张常常使她捻的毫无表情的黝黑的面孔。他将手从她的下巴上放下来，然后转身走到他的椅子旁，又瘫软地坐在里面，将下巴垂到胸前，眼睛从两道黑眉下茫然若失地仰望着她。
她跟着走到他的椅子旁，绞扭着两只手站在他面前。
“你想错了，"她又开始说，一面思量着该说什么。"瑞德，今晚我一明白过来，便我一路跑步回家来告诉你。唔，亲爱的，我----""你累了，"他说，仍然打量着她。"你最好还是去睡吧。"“可是我得告诉你呀！"“思嘉，"他沉重而缓缓地说，“我不想听你----什么也不想听。"“可是你还不晓得我要说什么呢。"“我的宝贝儿，那不明摆在你的脸上吗？大概有什么事，什么人，让你懂得了，那位不幸的威尔克斯先生是个死海里的果子，太大了，连你也啃不动呢。这么一来，我就在你面前突然显得新鲜起来，好象有点味道了。"他微微叹了一口气。
“你讲这些是没有用的。”
她惊诧地倒抽了一口冷气。的确，他经常很轻易地就看透了她。在此之前她是很恼火这一点的，不过这一回，经过最初的震惊以后，她反而感到大为高兴和放心了。他既然知道，既然理解，她的工作便容易多了。确实用不着谈嘛！当然，他会为她的期冷淡而感到痛心的，他对她这个突然的转变当然要怀疑。她还得亲切地讨他的欢心，热烈地爱他，才能使他相信，而且这样做也会很有乐趣呢！
“亲爱的，我要把一切都告诉你，"她说，一面把两只手搁在他那椅子的扶手上，储身凑近他。"我以前真是大错特错了，真是个大傻瓜----"“思嘉，别这样了。用不着对我这样低声下气。我受不了。
最好给我们留下一点尊严，一点默默的思索，作为我们这几年结婚生活的纪念。免了我们这最后一幕吧。"她猛地挺起身来，免了我们这最后一幕？他这"最后一幕"是什么意思？最后？这是他们的第一幕，是她们的开端呢。
“但是我要告诉你，"她赶忙追着说，好像生怕他手捂住她的嘴不让她说下去似的。"唔，瑞德，我多么爱你，亲爱的！
我本来应该多年以来一直爱你的，可我是这样一个傻瓜，以前不晓得这一点。瑞德，你必须相信我呀！"他望着站在面前的她，过了好一会儿，一直把她的心看透了。她发现他的眼神里有了相信的意思，但似乎没有多少兴趣。呼，他是不是偏偏这一次对她不怀好心了呢？难道要折磨她，用她自己的罪孽报复她吗？
“唔，我相信你，"他终于这样说。"但是艾希礼·威尔克斯先生怎么办？”“艾希礼！“她说，同时做了个不耐烦的手势。"我----我并不相信这么多年来我对他有过什么兴趣。那是----唔，那是我从小沾染上的一种癖性。瑞德，要是我明白了他实际上是这样的人，我就连想都不会想到要对他感兴趣了。他是这么一个毫无作为的精神苍白的人，尽管他经常喋喋不休地谈什么真理、名誉和----”“不，"瑞德说。"如果你真要看清他实际上是怎样一个人，你就得老老实实去看。他是个上等人，只不过被他所不能适应的这个世界蒙骗了，可是他还按照过去那个世界的规律在白费力平地挣扎呢。"“唔，瑞德，我们不要谈他了吧！现在他还有什么意思呢？
你难道不愿意知道----我是说，我现在----"他那疲倦的眼睛跟她的接触了一下，这使她像个初恋的姑娘似的感到很难为情，便没有往下说了。如果他让她感到轻松一些，那该多好啊！他如果能伸出双臂，让她能感激地倒进他的怀里，将头靠在他的胸脯上，该多好啊！如果她的嘴唇能贴在他的嘴唇上，就用不着恁她这些含含糊糊的话去打动他了。但是她看看他时才明白，他并不是在故意回避，他好像精力和感情都已枯竭，仿佛她所说的话对他已毫无意义了。
“愿意？"他说。"要是从前我听到你说这些话，我是会虔诚地感谢上帝的。可事到如今，这已无关紧要了。"“无关紧要吗？你这是说的什么？当然，这是很要紧的嘛！
瑞德，你是关心我的，不是吗？你一定关心。媚兰说过你是关心的呢。"“嗯，就她所知道的来说，她是对的。不过，思嘉，你想过没有，哪怕一种最坚贞不渝的爱也会消磨掉的。"她看着他，小嘴张得圆圆的，无言以对。
“我的爱已经消磨殆尽了，"他继续说，"被艾希礼·威尔克斯和你那股疯狂的固执劲儿消磨殆尽了。你固执得像只牛头犬，抓住你认为自己想要的东西不放。……我的爱就这样被消磨殆尽了。”
“可爱情是消磨不掉的呀！”
“你对艾希礼的爱才是这样。”
“可是我从没真正爱过艾希礼呢！”
“那么，你真是扮演得太像了----一直到今天晚上为止。
思嘉，我并不是责怪你，控告你，谴责你。现在已经用不着那样做了。所以请不要在我面前为自己辩护和表白。如果你能静听我讲几分钟，不来打断，我愿意就我的意思作些解释。
不过，天知道，我看已经没有解释的必要了。事情不是明摆着的嘛。"她坐下来，刺目的灯光照在她那苍白困惑的脸上。她凝视着那双她非常熟悉但又很不理解的眼睛，静听他用平静的声调说些她起初听不懂的话。他用这种态度对她说话还是头一次，就像一个人对另外一个人，就像旁的人谈话一样，以往那种尖刻、嘲弄和令人费解的话都没有了。
“你有没有想过，我是怀着一个男人对一个女人的爱所能达到的最高程度在爱你的，爱了那么多年才最后得到你。战争期间我曾准备离开，忘掉你，但是我做不到，只好经常回来。战争结束后，我冒着被捕的危险就是为了回来找你。我对弗兰克·肯尼迪那么忌恨，要不是他后来死了，我想我很可就把他杀了。我爱你，但是我又不能让你知道。思嘉，你对那些爱你的人总是很残酷的。你接受他们的爱，把它作为鞭子举在他们头上。"然而所有这些话中。对她有意义的只有他爱她这一点。她从他的口气中隐约闻到了一点热情的反响，便又觉得喜悦和兴奋了。她平声静气地坐在那里倾听着，等待着。
“我跟你结婚时知道你并不爱我。我了解艾希礼的事，这一点你也明白。不过我那时很傻，满以为还能叫你爱我呢。你就笑吧，如果高兴的话，可那时我真想照顾你，宠爱你，凡你想要的东西都给你。我要跟你结婚，保护你，让你凭自己的高兴随心所欲处理一切事物----就像我对邦妮那样。思嘉，你也确实奋斗了一番。我比谁都清楚你经历了哪些艰难，因此我想要你休息一下，让我来为你奋斗。我要你去玩，像个孩子似的----何况你本来就是个孩子，一个勇敢的、时常担惊受怕的、刚强的孩子。我想你至今还是个孩子。只有一个孩子才会这样顽固，这样感觉迟钝。"他的声音平静而疲倦，不过其中有某种东西引起了思嘉隐约的回忆。她曾经有一次听到过这样一种声音，那是在她生活中面临另外某个危机的时候。可是在什么地方呢？这是一个面对着自己和世界的，没有感觉、没有畏缩、也没有希望的男人的声音。
怎么----怎么----那是艾希礼，在塔拉农场寒风冽的果园里，用一种疲倦而平静的声音谈论人生和影子戏，那最后判决般的口气比绝望的痛苦还要严重呢。如同那时艾希礼的声音曾使她对一些无法理解的事物惧怕得不寒而栗那样，现在瑞德的声音使她的心下往下沉。他的声音，他的态度，比他所说的话的内容更加令她不安，让她明白她刚才那种喜悦兴奋的心情是为时过早了。她觉得事情有些不妙，非常不妙。
那到底是什么问题，她还不清楚，只得绝望地听着，凝望着他黝黑的面孔，但愿能听到使这种恐怕最终消释的下文。
“事情很明显，我们俩是天生的一对。我明明是你的那些相识中惟一既了解你的底细又还能爱你的人----我知道你为什么残酷、贪婪和无所顾忌，跟我一样。我爱你，我决定冒这个风险。我想艾希礼会从你心中渐渐消失的。可是，"他耸了耸肩膀，"我用尽了一切办法都毫无结果，而我还是很爱你，思嘉，只要你给我机会，我就会像一个男人爱一个女人时能尽量做的那样，亲切而温柔地爱你。但是我不能让你知道，因为你知道了便会认为我软弱可欺，用我的爱来对付我。而且，艾希礼一直在那里。这逼得我快要发疯了。我不能每天晚上跟你面对面坐着吃饭，因为知道你心里希望坐在我这个座位上的是艾希礼。同样，在晚上我也无法抱着你睡觉----不过，现在已经无关紧要了。现在我才觉得奇怪，为什么要那样自讨苦吃呢。总之，那么一来，我就只好到贝尔那里去了。在那里可以得到某种卑下的慰藉，因为总算是跟一个女人在一起，而她又那样衷地爱你，尊敬你，把你当作一个很好的上等人----尽管她是没有文化的妓女。这使我的虚荣心得到宽慰。而你却从来不怎么会安慰人呢。亲爱的。"“唔，瑞德。……"思嘉一听到贝尔的名字便恼怒了，忍不住想插嘴，但瑞德摆摆手制止了她，自己继续说下去。
“然后，到那天晚上，我把你抱上楼去----当时我想----我希望----我怀着那么大的希望，以致第二天早晨我连见都不敢见你，生怕我被误解，而你实际上并不爱我。我十分担心你会嘲笑我，所以跑到外面喝醉了。我回来时还浑身颤抖呢，那时只要你哪怕出来迎接我一下，给我一点表示，我想我是会跟下去吻你的脚的，可是你并没有那样做。"“唔，不过瑞德，那时我确实很想要你，可是你却那么别扭！我真想要你啊！我想----是的，当我一明白自己爱你时，就应该是那样的呀。至于艾希礼----从那以后我就再没有对艾希礼感到有什么兴趣了。可是那时你真别扭，所以我----""唔，好了，"瑞德说。"看来我们是抱着彼此相反的看法了，是不是？不过现在已经无关紧要。我只想告诉你，免得你老是纳闷，不知是怎么一回事。你那次生病，倒完全是我的过错，我站在你的房门口，希望你叫我，可是你却没有叫，于是我感到自己太傻了，反正一切都完了。"他停了停，眼睛越过她看着更远的地方，就像艾希礼时常做的那样，仿佛远处有他看不见的什么东西。而她只能默默无言地看着他那张沉默的脸。
“不过，那时候邦妮还在，我觉得事情毕竟还是有希望的。
我喜欢把邦妮当作你，好像你又成了一个没有战争和贫困折磨的小姑娘。她真像你，那么任性，那么勇敢快乐，兴致勃勃，我可以宠爱她，娇惯她----就像我要宠爱你一样。可是她有一点跟你不一样----她爱我。于是我很欣慰能够把你所不要的爱拿来给她。……等到她一走，就把一切都带走了。"思嘉突然感到很为他难过，难过得连她自己的悲伤，以及因不了解他说这些话的用意而感到的恐惧，全都忘了。这是她有生以来第一次替别人感到难过而不同时轻视这个人，因为这是她第一次真正理解另一个人呢。她能够了解他的精明狡诈----跟她自己的那么相像，以及他因为生怕碰壁而不肯承认自己的爱那样一种顽固的自尊心。
“哎，亲爱的，"她走上前去说，希望他会伸出双臂把她拉过去抱在膝上。"亲爱的，我的确对不起你，但是我会全部补偿你的！我们会过得很愉快，因为我们已经彼此了解，而且----瑞德----看着我，瑞德！我们还可以----还可以再要孩子----不像邦妮，而是----"”不，谢谢你了，"瑞德说，仿佛拒绝一片面包似的。“我不想象自己的心去作第三次冒险了。"“瑞德，别这样说话嘛，唔，我怎么说才能让你明白呢？
我已经告诉你我多么对不起----”
“亲爱的，你真是个孩子。你以为只要说一声'对不起'，多年来的过错和伤害就能补偿，就能从心上抹掉，毒液就能从旧的伤口消除干净。……把我这块手帕拿去，思嘉。在你一生无论哪个危机关头，我从没见过你有一条手帕呢。"她接过手帕，擦了擦鼻子，然后坐下。看来很显然，他是不会搂抱她的。她开始清醒地意识到，他所说的关于爱她的话，实际上毫无意义。那已经是你陈年旧事，可他还在盯着它，仿佛他从没经历过呢。这倒是令人吃惊的。他用一种近乎亲切的态度看着她，眼里流露出沉思的神色。
“你多大年纪了，亲爱的？你从来不肯告诉我。"“二十八岁，"她沉闷地回答，因手帕捂在嘴上显得闷声闷气的。
“这年纪不算大嘛。你得到整个世界却丢掉了灵魂时，还很年轻呢，是不是？别害怕。我不是说因为你跟艾希礼的事，你将被打入地狱，受到惩罚。我这只是一种比喻的说法罢了。
自从我认识你以来，你一直想要的是两样东西。一是要艾希礼，二是尽量赚钱好任意践踏这个世界。好，你现在已经够富裕了，可以对这个世界呼三喝四，而且也得到了艾希礼，如果你还要他的话。可是如今看来，似乎这一切还不够吧。“她感到害怕，但并非由于想起了地狱的惩罚。她是在思忖：“我的灵魂其实就是瑞德，可是我快要失掉他了。而一旦失掉他，别的东西就无关紧要了。不，不论是朋友或金钱----或任何东西，都无关紧要。只要有他，我哪怕再一次受穷也不在乎。不，我不在乎再一次挨冻，甚至饿肚子。但是，他不可能真是那个意思----啊，他决不可能！"于是，她擦擦眼睛，万分焦急地说：“瑞德，既然你曾经那样爱过我，你总该给我留下点什么吧？"“我从中只发现还有两样东西留下来，那是你最憎恨的两样东西----怜悯和一种奇怪的慈悲心。"怜悯！慈悲！"啊，我的天哪，"她绝望地想，什么都行，除了怜悯和慈悲。每当她对别人怀有这两种情感时，必然有轻视跟它们相连在一起。难道他也在轻视她了？只要不是这样，什么都心甘情愿呢。哪怕是战争时期那种冷酷的嘲讽，哪怕是促使他那天夜里抱她上楼的病狂劲儿，抓伤她身体的那些粗暴的手指，或者，她如今才明白是掩藏着热爱的那种拖长声调的带刺的话----所有这些，都比轻视好多了。什么都行，就是不能有这种与他本人无关的慈悲心，可是它明明在他脸上流露出来！
“那么----那么你的意思是我已经彻底把它毁了----你再也不爱我了？"“是这样。"”可是----可是我爱你呢，"她固执地说，好像是个孩子，她依然觉得只要说出自己的期望就能实现那个希望似的。
“那就是你的不幸了。”
她急忙抬起头来，看看这句话背后有没有玩笑的意味，但是没有。他是在简捷地说明一个事实。不过这个事实她还是不愿意接受----不能接受。她用那双翘翘的，眼睛看着他，眼里燃烧着绝望而固执的神情，同时她那柔润的脸颊忽然板起来，使得一个像杰拉尔德那样顽强的下颚格外突出了。
“别犯傻了，瑞德！我能使----”
他扬起一只手装出惊吓的样子，两道黑眉也耸成新月形，完全是过去那个讥讽人的模样。
“别显得这样坚定吧，思嘉！我被你吓坏了。我看你是在盘算着把你对艾希礼的狂热感情转移到我身上来，可是我害怕丧失我的意志自由和平静呢。不，思嘉，我不愿意像倒霉的艾希礼那样被人追捕。况且，我马上就要走了。"她的下颚在哆嗦了，她急忙咬紧牙关让它镇定下来。要走？不，无论如何不能走！没有他生活怎么过呢？除了瑞德，所有对她关系重大的人都离开她了。他不能走。可是，怎么样才能把他留住呢？她无法改变他那颗冰冷的心，也驳不回那些冷漠无情的话呀！
“我就要走了。你从马里塔回来的时候我就准备告诉你的。"“你要抛弃我？““用不着装扮成一副弃妇的模样嘛，思嘉，这角色对你很不合适。那么我看，你是不想离婚甚至分居了？好吧，那我就尽可能多回来走走，免得别人说闲话。”“什么闲话不闲话！"她恶狠狠地说。"我要的是你。要走就带我一起走！"“不行，“他说，口气十分坚决，仿佛毫无商量的余地。刹时间她几乎要像个孩子似的号啕大哭了。她几乎要倒在地上，蹬着脚跟叫骂起来了。好在她毕竟还有一点自尊心和常识，才克制自己。她想，如果我那样做，他只会轻视，或者干脆袖手旁观。我决不能哭闹；我也决不起求。我决不做任何叫他轻视的事，他很尊重我，哪怕----哪怕他不爱我也罢。
她抬起下巴，强作镇静地问：
“你要到哪里去？”
他回答时眼中隐约流露出赞许的光采。
“也许去英国----或者巴黎。但也可能先到查尔斯顿，想办法同我家里的人和解一下。““可是你恨他们呢！我听你常常嘲笑他们，并且----"他耸耸肩膀。
“我还在嘲笑----不过我已经流浪得够了，思嘉。我都四十五岁了----一个人到了这个年龄，应该开始珍惜他年轻时轻易抛弃的那些东西。比如家庭的和睦，名誉和安定，扎得很深的根基等等----啊，不！我并不是在悔过，我对于自己做过的事从不悔恨。我已经好好享受过一阵子----那么美好的日子，现在已开始有点腻烦，想改变一下了。不，我从没打算要改变自己身上的瑕疵以外的东西。不过，我也想学学我看惯了的某些外表的东西，那些很令人厌烦但在社会上却很受尊敬的东西----不过我的宝贝儿，这些都是别人所有的，而不是我自己的----那就是绅士们生活中那种安逸尊严的风度，以及旧时代温文雅的美德。我以前过日子的时候，并不懂得这些东西中潜在的魅力呢----"思嘉再一次回忆起塔拉农场果园里的情景，那天艾希礼眼中的神色跟现在瑞德眼中的完全一样。艾希礼说的那些话如今清清楚楚就在她耳边，好像仍是他而不是瑞德在说似的。
她记起了艾希礼话中的只言片语，便像鹦鹉学舌一般引用道：“它富有魅力----像古希腊艺术那样，是圆满的、完整的和匀称的。"瑞德厉声问她：“你怎么说这个？这正是我的意思呢。"“这是----这是艾希礼从前谈到旧时代的时候说过的。“他耸了耸肩膀，眼睛里的光芒消失了。
“总是艾希礼，"他说完沉思了片刻，然后才接下去。
“思嘉，等到你四十五岁的时候，你也许会懂得我这些话的意思，那时你可能也对这种假装的文雅、虚伪的礼貌和廉价的感情感到腻烦了。不过我还有点怀疑。我想你是会永远只注意外表不重视实质的。反正我活不到那个时候，看不到你究竟怎样了。
